FIELD   AND   STAFF. 

Lt.  Col.  Win.  H.  Seward,  Jr.        Chaplain  Warham  Mudge.         Major  E.  P.  Taft. 

Colonel  Joseph  Welling. 
Surgeon  S.  A.  Sabin.  Q.  M.  H.  P.  Knowles.       Asst.  Surgeon  D.  S.  Chamberlain. 


THE 


NINTH  NEW  YORK 


HEAVY  ARTILLERY 


A  HISTORY  OF  ITS  ORGANIZATION,  SERVICES  IN  THE  DEFENSES 
OF  WASHINGTON,  MARCHES,  CAMPS,  BATTLES,  AND  MUS 
TER-OUT,  WITH  ACCOUNTS  OF  LIFE  IN  A  REBEL  PRIS 
ON,  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES,  NAMES  AND  AD 
DRESSES  OF  SURVIVING  MEMBERS,  PER 
SONAL  SKETCHES,  AND   A   COM 
PLETE  ROSTER  OF  THE 
REGIMENT. 


ROE 

3?  Company  A., 


"  For  freedom's  battle,  once  begun, 
Bequeathed  by  bleeding  sire  to  son, 
Though  baffled  oft,  is  ever  won." 

— Byron. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE  AUTHOR,  WORCESTER,  MASS. 
1899. 


•  7 


fife 


Copyright,  1899, 

by 
ALFRED  SEELYE  ROE. 


PRESS  OF 

F.  S.  BLANCHARD  &  Co. 

WORCESTER,    MASS. 


PREFACE. 

This  book  is  in  no  way  a  history  of  the  Rebellion.  Not  the 
slightest  effort  has  been  made  to  generalize,  but  throughout,  the 
story  is  confined  to  the  career  of  one  regiment  of  soldiers.  Dur 
ing  the  war  more  than  2,000  similar  organizations  did  similar 
service,  but  what  our  regiment  did,  what  our  boys  suffered, 
where  they  went,  what  they  saw, — all  these  items  make  up  the 
matter  of  this  compilation,  for  such  it  is  in  the  most  thorough 
acceptance  of  the  word. 

General  Sherman  said  that  no  two  men  ever  saw  the  same 
battle  in  the  same  light;  that  their  stories,  both  true,  would 
differ  in  essential  features;  granting  this  to  be  so,  how  much 
more  diverse  must  be  the  recitals  of  the  nearly  3,000  men  who 
constitute  the  vast  aggregate  of  the  Ninth?  While  the  infantry 
regiment,  as  a  rule,  was  kept  together  and  moved  compactly, 
our  body  was  divided  into  three  battalions,  and  these  again 
were  subdivided,  oftentimes,  into  more  parts  than  companies, 
till  we  had  squads  scattered  seemingly  over  a  large  part  of  the 
District  of  Columbia.  Even  when  our  departure  from  the  de 
fenses  came,  and  for  a  few  days  we  marched  together,  we  were 
soon  separated,  and  an  observer  for  each  division  was  desirable. 
Under  such  circumstances  it  became  necessary  to  call  on  all 
surviving  members  of  the  regiment  for  such  data  as  they  might 
possess.  Many  responded  nobly.  Some  who  promised  much, 
failed  to  send  anything.  However,  those  who  did  comply  sent 
enough  to  occupy  the  possible  time  of  nearly  four  years  in  read 
ing  and  copying. 

Along  with  these  letters,  written  home  in  war-times,  and  the 
daily  record  so  carefully  kept  at  the  time,  and  preserved  since, 
access  should  have  been  had  to  the  regimental  and  company 
books,  along  with  the  pay-rolls  now  in  the  keeping  of  the  War 
Department  in  Washington.  Some  organizations  did  not  com 
ply  with  the  demands  of  the  government  at  the  end  of  the  war, 
and  retained  their  documents,  to  this  day  open  to  any  one  car 
ing  to  read;  but  the  great  majority  of  the  regiments  obediently 

M199599 


4:  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

turned  in  their  books,  and  now  when  they  humbly  ask  the  priv 
ilege  of  referring  to  the  record  that  they  themselves  made,  the;y 
are  told  that  the  books  are  too  precious  for  ordinary  eyes,  and 
moreover  the  custodians  say  they  will  not  even  answer  ques 
tions.  They  tell  us  that  transcripts  have  been  sent,  in  our  case, 
to  Albany,  and  that  there  these  records  are  accessible;  but  these 
same  transcriptions  are  full  of  errors,  which  might  be  obviated 
by  comparison  with  the  Washington  data,  but  we  are  refused 
the  opportunity.  That  these  Washington  records  might  be 
examined,  a  request  was  forwarded  to  the  secretary  of  war, 
endorsed  by  General  William  H.  Seward,  Colonel  Anson  S. 
Wood,  at  the  time  commander  of  the  New  York  department  of 
the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic,  and  by  the  Hon.  Sereno  E. 
Payne,  member  of  Congress  from  the  28th  District,  and  also 
by  Governor  Roger  Wolcott  of  Massachusetts.  To  this  seem 
ingly  reasonable  request  came  the  reply  that  the  books  referred 
to  are  in  the  custody  of  the  office,  but  they  can  not  be  consulted 
for  historical  purposes,  nor  can  access  to  the  records  be  given 
to  persons  not  officially  connected  with  the  department.  A  very 
long  letter  accompanied  the  rufusal,  which  at  the  best  is  only 
a  dog-in-the-manger  proposition.  At  once  the  query  rises,  "Why 
are  men  who  have  reason  to  be  interested  in  this  record  thus 
refused?"  There  is  no  good  answer,  but  it  has  been  surmised 
that  the  department  contemplates  a  continuation  of  the  Re 
bellion  Record,  already  printed  at  an  expense  of  two  and  one- 
half  millions  of  dollars,  picking  out  what  may  be  supposed  to 
interest  the  public.  Then  there  is  a  "possibility  that  they  will 
be  kept  sealed,  till  the  men  most  interested  in  them  have  passed 
away;  they  will  become  fair  fields  for  the  discoverers  and  ex 
plorers  of  the  next  century  to  roam  through.  Colonel  Ains- 
worth,  the  officer  in  charge  of  the  archives,  has  intimated  thai 
such  publication,  as  indicated  above,  may  come  some  day,  but 
it  will  be  like  the  Revolutionary  rolls  now  issuing  from  the 
state  of  Massachusetts  years  after  those  who  made  the  record 
have  ceased  to  care.  An  extract  from  the  letter  written  by  the 
acting  secretary  of  war  to  the  Hon.  Mr.  Payne  follows : 

It  is  proper  to  remark,  further,  that  there  is  no  necessity  that 
Mr.  Roe  should  have  access  to  the  records  on  file  here  for  the 
purpose  described  in  the  communication  of  Mr.  Kenyon,  which 
accompanied  your  letter.  A  complete  record  of  all  the  officers 
and  men  of  the  9th  New  York  Artillery,  as  shown  by  the  rolls 


PREFACE.  0 

on  file  in  this  department,  was  furnished  to  the  adjutant  general 
of  the  state  of  New  York  in  1888,  and  it  is  understood  that  that 
official  has  already  published,  or  is  about  to  publish,  the  record 
of  the  regiment.  At  any  rate,  nothing  additional  can  be  ob 
tained  from  the  rolls  on  file  here. 

And  there  is  no  necessity  that  he  should  have  access  to  the 
regimental  books  "so  as  to  note  the  different  orders  issued  cov 
ering  the  movements  of  the  regiment."  Such  movements  can 
not  be  ascertained  with  any  degree  of  accuracy  from  those 
books;  but  all  the  important  operations  in  which  any  regiment 
was  engaged  can  be  readily  ascertained  by  consulting  the  vol 
umes  of  the  Rebellion  Records,  which  have  been  published  and 
widely  distributed  by  this  department. 

To  the  foregoing  I  make  this  reply,  that  it  is  just  the  matter 
not  deemed  of  sufficient  importance  to  be  printed  that  the  regi 
mental  history  needs.  The  world  is  not  concerned  about  the 
9th  New  York  Heavy  Artillery  in  the  *  ;t.  The  general 
history  of  the  war,,  with  its  great  leaders  and  battles,  gives  what 
the  reading  world  desires;  we  wish  to  know  what  the  indi 
vidual  accomplished.  The  history  of  a  regiment  becomes  to 
that  of  the  war  what  a  local  history  is  to  that  of  the  country. 
The  people  of  the  section  from  which  the  regiment  was  raised 
are  interested  in  what  their  friends  did,  and  it  is  for  the  com 
piler  of  the  narrative  to  judge  what  will  entertain  them;  he  is 
better  qualified  to  decide  than  a  man  though  high  in  office,  to 
whom  the  whole  collection  in  his  bureau  is  just  an  array  of  facts 
and  nothing  more.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  this  unfair  condition, 
at  no  distant  day,  though  too  late  to  be  of  service  to  us,  will 
cease  to  exist,  and  the  men  whose  deeds  are  recorded  there  may, 
with  their  mortal  eyes,  have  the  privilege  of  looking  upon  the 
papers.  A  campaign  to  this  effect  should  be  inaugurated. 

Without  the  co-operation  of  many  this  history  had  been  an 
impossibility.  Fortunately,  there  was  a  long  list  of  whole- 
souled,  devoted  men  who  said,  "Go  in  and  give  the  project  a 
start,  and  we  will  back  you  up."  To  all  such  my  thanks  are  due, 
and  they  are  hereby  rendered.  An  enumeration  of  all  those  thus 
connected  would  be  difficult,  but  I  must  name  General  William 
H.  Seward,  who  has  helped  in  many  ways  from  the  start;  Col 
onels  Anson  S.  Wood,  William  Wood,  and  S.  B.  Lamoreaux, 
who  by  recollection,  correction  and  suggestion  have  speeded  the 
task;  Major  Chauncey  Fish,  whose  untiring  zeal  has  been  an 
inspiration;  Major  George  W.  Brinkerhoff,  Captains  J.  H.  Hyde, 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

F.  A.  Sinclair,  and  S.  A.  Howe,  whose  readiness  to  respond  to 
questions  has  been  exceedingly  helpful;  Adjutant  V.  A.  Ken- 
yon  for  invaluable  suggestions  and  data;  Lieutenants  S.  F. 
Harris,  E.  L.  Huntington,  and  J.  D.  Knapp,  who  furnished  valu 
able  data  from  their  diaries;  G.  H.  Alpeter,  John  Colligan,  J.  H. 
De  Voe,  W.  G.  Duckett,  E.  P.  Dunning,  C.  A.  Ford,  O.  J.  Frost, 
H.  P.  Howard,  S.  E.  Hurtubise,  A.  K.  Long,  Charles  McDowell, 
J.  H.  Marvin,  B.  Morehouse,  F.  N.  Parish,  L.  B.  Kice,  Steph. 
Beeves,  C.  L.  Shergur,  A.  E.  Stacey,  Frank  Tallman,  F.  A.  Tall- 
man,  all  of  whom  by  diaries,  letters,  or  memory  supplied  much  of 
the  matter  herein  recorded;  the  families  of  Surgeon  S.  A.  Sabin, 
Captain  P.  B.  Freeoff,  Chaplain  Warham  Mudge,  Lieutenant  B. 
J.  Yard,  Sergeant  N.  G.  York,  Sergeant  H.  K.  Austin,  and 
Walter  Deuel,  for  painstaking  compilations  and  answers  to 
questions;  outside  of  the  regiment  and  its  immediate  connec 
tions  thanks  arev  reby  tendered  to  Captain  George  E.  Davis 
of  the  10th  Vermont  for  valuable  suggestions;  to  Chaplain  E. 
M.  Haynes  of  the  same  regiment  for  the  use  of  maps  of  Win 
chester  and  Cedar  Creek  battlefields;  to  Major  E.  Y.  Golds- 
borough  of  Frederick,  Md.,  for  assistance;  to  Colonel  Frederick 
Phisterer,  assistant  adjutant  general  of  New  York,  with  Mr.  W. 
A.  Saxton  of  his  staff  for  most  courteous  and  cordial  attention 
and  aid,  and.  finally,  my  obligations  are  acknowledged  to  Col 
onel  John  D.  Billings  of  Cambridge,  Mass.,  author  of  "Hard 
tack  and  Coffee,"  for  the  use  of  numerous  cuts  from  that  valu 
able  publication. 

Anticipating  the  criticism  of  some  that  no  set  rule  has  been 
followed  in  the  size  of  portraits,  I  would  state  that  the  rule  of 
necessity  has  been  the  only  one  heeded.  Where  a  cut  was  al 
ready  in  existence,  as  those  of  myself  and  sundry  others,  the 
same  has  been  used.  Where  new  ones  were  made,  only  the  best 
results  possible  were  desired.  A  later  portrait  of  Colonel  Snyder 
was  diligently  but  unsuccessfully  sought.  Should  one  ever  be 
obtained  I  pledge  myself  to  send  an  engraved  copy  to  every  pur 
chaser  of  this  book. 

Comrades !  The  History,  such  as  it  is,  is  now  yours.  Its  prep 
aration  has  taken  the  time  of  nearly  five  years.  I  am  not  sorry 
that  I  have  done  the  work,  but  I  would  not  undertake  such  a 
task  again.  Bead  it  carefully  and,  if  it  pleases  you,  give  me  the 
benefit  of  your  approbation.  If  you  find  faults,  as  you  must 
inevitably,  criticise  as  sparingly  as  possible,  remembering  that 


PREFACE.  7 

I  have  written  with  no  axe  to  grind,  no  debts  to  pay,  with  no 
malice  to  satisfy,  having  one  object  only,  viz.,  the  perpetuation 
of  the  memory  of  our  regiment,  the  9th  New  York  Heavy  Ar 
tillery. 

ALFRED  S.  ROE. 
Worcester,  Mass.,  September,  1899. 


CORRECTIONS. 

Page     58,  19th  line,  Surgeon  Dwight  S.,  not  D.  W.  Chamber 

lain. 

Page    76,  2d  line,  for  Frank  W.,  read  Frank  A.  Sinclair. 
Page    79,  5th  line,  read  Ninth,  not  North. 
Page  120,  23d  line,  Colonel  Tompkins,  not  Thompson. 
Page  124,  1st  line,  for  Colonel  Harvey,  read  Henry. 
Page  129,  2d  line,  R.,  not  R.  E.  Burton. 
Page  248,  1st  line,  Andrew  S.,  not  John  S.  Hall. 
Page  320,  Lieutenant  Burton  did  not  escape. 
Page  459,  C.  W.  Blanchard  enlisted  in  1863. 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

Chapter  I.  Second  Wayne  and  Cayuga  Regiment,  9 

Chapter  II.  From  Auburn  to  Washington,  19 

Chapter  III.  Through  Washington,  25 

Chapter  IV.  Camp  Life  and  Road-making,  31 

Chapter  V.  Camp  Nellie  Seward  and  Fort  Kearney,  36 

Chapter  VI.  Camp  Morris  and  the  9th  Heavy  Artillery,  44 

Chapter  VII.  Life  in  the  Forts,  50 

Chapter  VIII.  Fort  Foote,  57 

Chapter  IX.  Soldiering  in  the  Defenses,  66 

Chapter  X.  A  General  Shaking-up,  77 

Chapter  XI.  Reaching  the  Front,  85 
Chapter  XII.  From  the  North  Anna  Through  Cold 

Harbor,  91 

Chapter  XIII.  From  Cold  Harbor  to  Petersburg,  107 

Chapter  XIV.  To  and  Through  Monocacy,  121 

Chapter  XV.  Retreat  and  Pursuit,  135 

Chapter  XVI.  The  Valley  and  Winchester,  142 
Chapter  XVII.  The  3d  Battalion  from  Petersburg  to 

Harrisonburg,  157 

Chapter  XVIII.  The  Valley  and  Cedar  Creek,  163 

Chapter  XIX.  From  Cedar  Creek  to  Petersburg,  194 

Chapter  XX.  Petersburg,  Through  March,  1865,  206 

Chapter  XXI.  Breaking  the  Lines,  and  Sailor's  Creek,  223 

Chapter  XXII.  The  Danville  Raid,  240 

Chapter  XXIII.  Richmond,  Washington,  and  Home,  251 

Chapter  XXIV.  Those  Who  Were  Left  Behind,  264 

Chapter  XXV.  Miscellaneous,  273 

Chapter  XXVI.  Prisoners  of  War,  307 

Chapter  XXVII.  Veteran  Association,  367 
Chapter  XXVIII.  Personal  Experiences  of  the  Civil 

War,  390 

Chapter  XXIX.  Personal  Sketches,  409 

Chapter  XXX.  Regimental  Roster,  453 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

CHAPTER    I. 

SECOND  CAYUGA  AND  WAYNE  REGIMENT. 

What  happy  fate  was  it  that  associated  these  two  melodi 
ously  named  counties  in  the  25th  Senatorial  District,  and  thus 
made  them  parents  of  two  as  devoted  organizations  as  from 
1861  to  1865  went  forth  from  the  Empire  State?  Of  the  sixty- 
one  names  that  make  up  the  county  appellations  of  New  York 
we,  who  were  fortunate  enough  to  have  lived  among  the  drift 
hills  and  in  the  fertile  valleys  of  this  part  of  the  state,  count 
Cayuga  and  Wayne,  if  not  the  most  beautiful,  at  least  as  lovely 
as  any  of  the  list  which,  from  Albany  to  Yates,  we  were  wont 
to  repeat  concertedly  in  our  schoolboy  days. 

The  first  word  recalls  the  lake  of  the  same  name — Auburn, 
ever  loveliest  village  of  the  plain;  the  Indians  whose  tribal  ap 
pellation  was  taken  for  that  of  the  county,  and  above  all  thf: 
chief  of  the  same  tribe,  whose  melancholy  epitaph  every  one 
who  has  visited  Fort  Hill  cemetery  readily  calls  to  mind. 
"Who  is  there  left  to  mourn  for  Logan?"  hallows  all  the  sur 
roundings;  the  second  name,  covering  territory  once  a  part  of 
the  first,  reminds  us  of  that  brave  Revolutionary  soldier  who 
proclaimed  himself  ready  to  storm  h — 1  if  Washington  would 
but  plan  the  attack.  From  Stony  Point  to  his  final  resting-place 
on  the  shores  of  Erie,  was  a  weary  march  for  Mad  Anthony 
Wayne,  but  those  who  live  under  the  sound  of  his  great  name 
falter  not  in  their  admiration  for  his  vigor  and  courage. 
.  To  these  regions  came,  after  the  Revolution,  people  of  kin 
dred  birth  and  rearing,  and  for  a  similar  purpose.  Prosperity 
attended  them.  Free  and  independent  themselves,  they  had 
little  respect  for  a  system  that  proposed  to  enrich  one  class  at 
the  expense  of  another.  Nowhere  in  this  broad  land  were 
there  more  or  more  willing  laborers  on  the  Underground  Rail 
road.  In  Auburn  lived  for  many  years  William  H.  Seward, 
the  author  of  the  Irrepressible  Conflict,  who,  at  a  latter  date. 


10  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

through  an  assassin's  knife,  was  to  seal  his  devotion  to  his  prin 
ciples  with  his  blood,  and  whose  son,  bearing  his  own  honored 
name,  was  to  be  the  esteemed  leader  of  one  of  the  regiments 
raised  in  this  favored  locality.  Thus  placed  and  thus  reared, 
what  wonder  that  the  sons  of  Cayuga  and  Wayne  early  re 
sponded  to  the  tocsin  of  battle!  Indeed,  it  is  claimed  that 
men  were  enrolled  in  Auburn,  eager  for  the  fray,  long  before 
the  first  gun  had  been  fired  upon  Sumter.  The  first  call  for 
troops  found  our  fathers  and  brothers  ready,  and  while  no 
regiment  at  first  hailed  entirely  from  this  section,  yet  by  com 
panies,  squads  and  individuals  they  found  their  way  very  early 
into  the  ranks  of  war.  Cayuga  sent  her  earliest  enlisted  men 
into  the  19th  Infantry,  afterwards  the  3d  [Light]  Artillery, 
and  the  75th;  into  the  8th,  10th  and  llth  Cavalry;  the  1st 
Independent  Battery,  the  3d  and  4th  Artillery  and  the  50th 
Engineers;  those  from  Wayne  were  more  widely  scattered, 
through  the  13th,  17th,  27th,  33d,  67th,  98th  and  105th  In 
fantry;  8th,  10th  and  15th  Cavalry  and  the  3d  Artillery.  The 
75th  was  called  the  "Cayuga  Regiment/'  but  Wayne  and  Seneca 
made  up  a  part  of  its  numbers. 

When,  July  2d,  1862,  President  Lincoln  called  for  300,000 
additional  men,  the  yeasty  or  frothy  days  of  soldier  making 
had  passed.  Bull  Run,  Ball's  Bluff  and  the  Seven  Days'  Fight 
had  sent  home  object  lessons  to  disillusion  any  and  all  who 
had  thought  that  war  was  all  glory.  The  South  had  evidenced 
sufficient  strength  to  warrant  the  calling  for  three  years  of 
service.  Under  such  circumstances,  men  knew  that  they  were 
not  entering  upon  a  holiday  picnic.  Apparently  the  majority 
counted  the  cost,  and  with  open  eyes  took  the  momentous  step 
which  entered  them  in  a  race  with  death. 

Up  to  this  date,  individual  effort  had  seemed  sufficient  to 
raise  the  regiments  required,  but  now  regular,  systematic  work 
was  necessary.  The  senatorial  district  appeared  to  be  a  good 
basis  of  organization,  and  for  the  25th  a  War  Committee  was 
appointed  whose  chairman  was  Major  William  C.  Beardsley, 
and  William  H.  Seward,  Jr.,  was  secretary.  Already  talk  of  a 
draft  was  heard,  and  it  was  dreaded  alike  by  two  classes,  viz. : 
those  who  feared  they  themselves  might  be  chosen,  and  those 
who  thought  the  necessity  an  aspersion  on  patriotism.  To  ward 
off  this  infliction,  New  York  struggled  zealously.  Her  quota 
of  59,705  men  was  exceeded  by  18,199  recruits.  The  proud 


THE   WM.    H.    SEWARD  MONUMENT,  AUBURN,   N.    Y. 
SEWARD  HOMESTEAD  IN  BACKGROUND. 


SECOND  CAYUGA  AND  WAYNE  REGIMENT.  11 

distinction  of  sending  nearly  half  a  million  soldiers  into  the 
War  of  the  Rebellion  was  not  gained  without  arduous  labor. 
Eloquent  speakers  descanted  upon  love  of  country,  saying,  "Go 
to  defend  it."  But  the  newly  enlisted  man  more  effectively 
said  to  his  neighbor,  "Come,  go  with  me."  It  was  a  never-to- 
be-forgotten  whirlwind  of  patriotism  which  swept  through  our 
counties  in  July  and  August  of  1862.  Special  meetings  of  the 
respective  boards  of  supervisors  were  held  to  further  the 
cause.  The  Hon.  E.  B.  Morgan  of  Auburn,  a  recent  member 
of  Congress,  and  ever  a  devoted  friend  of  humanity,  was  con 
spicuous  in  his  efforts  to  start  the  enlistment  ball  in  motion. 
The  Hon.  T.  M.  Pomeroy,  also  of  Auburn,  then  member  of  Con 
gress,  gave  his  entire  time  to  furthering  this  object.  Through 
out  both  counties,  every  public  hall  and  school-house  resounded 
with  pleas  to  help  save  the  country  by  immediate  enlistment. 
Flags  floated  in  every  breeze,  as  they  had  never  done  before, 
and  the  air  was  vibrant  with  the  words,  sung  to  "Patsey" 
Gilmore's  music: 

"We  are  coming,  Father  Abraham,  three  hundred  thousand  more," 

Enlistments  were  not  the  results  of  sudden  freaks,  nor  spasms 
of  love  of  country,  but  with  a  full  sense  of  the  peril  incurred, 
men  of  all  vocations  thronged  to  the  enrollment  stations  and 
entered  their  names.  That  they  took  their  lives  in  their  hands 
they  knew  full  well,  and  the  sequel  showed  how  deep  was  their 
devotion.  Better  material  never  essayed  the  soldier  role  than 
that  which  went  out  in  the  summer  and  fall  of  1862. 

The  meeting  of  interested  citizens,  held  in  Port  Byron  July 
12th,  took  action  which  resulted  in  the  formation  of  the  two 
regiments,  the  lllth  and  the  138th,  that  look  to  Cayuga  and 
Wayne  for  paternity.  To  Joseph  Welling,  Esq.,  of  Lyons,  was 
proffered  the  honor  of  calling  public  meetings  to  stimulate  re 
cruiting,  and,  on  his  declination,  the  same  was  offered  to  Jesse 
Segoine,  who  became  the  first  colonel  of  the  lllth,  or  the 
first  Cayuga  and  Wayne  regiment.  Had  the  offer  to  our 
Colonel  Welling  been  accepted,  in  what  changed  relations 
might  the  names  upon  the  Roll  of  Honor  appear! 

East  and  west  of  us,  in  Syracuse  and  Rochester,  there  had 
been  regimental  headquarters  to  whose  numbers  our  counties 
had  contributed,  and  distinguished  honors  had  come  to  those 
who  had  led  the  organizations  there  formed.  Now  the  happy 


12  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

thought  of  raising  regiments  by  senatorial  districts  was  to  give 
to  us  similar  distinction.  Henceforth,  the  two  counties,  be 
tween  Onondaga  and  Monroe,  were  to  claim  and  to  hold  their 
own. 

Colonel  Segoine  received  his  authority  to  raise  a  regiment 
July  19th,  and  before  the  month  was  ended  it  was  evident 
that  the  district  would  readily  fill  another.  Accordingly, 
Auburn  parties  visited  Albany  and  obtained  from  Governor 
Edwin  D.  Morgan  authority  to  organize  a  second  regiment. 
The  order  is  as  follows : 

GENERAL  HEADQUARTERS,  STATE  OF  NEW  YORK, 

ADJUTANT  GENERAL'S  OFFICE. 

ALBANY,  August  8,  1862. 

Special  Orders  No.  419. 

The  Regimental  Camp  established  in  the  25th  Senatorial  Distric 
is   hereby  continued,   and  a    second  Regiment  of  Infantry  is  hereby 
authorized   to   be    raised   in   said   district.     General  Jesse  Segoine, 
Colonel  of  the  Regiment  now  quartered  there,  will  act  as  Commandan 
of  the  Camp. 

By  order  of  the  Commander-in-Chief. 

(Not  signed.) 

Adjutant  General. 

Of  the  original  101  men  of  Company  A,  more  than  three- 
fourths  had  put  down  their  names  before  the  date  of  this  order. 
Subsequent  Captain,  then  First  Sergeant,  Chauncey  B.  Fish  of 
Company  B  had  enrolled  himself  August  1st.  Even  while 
this  delegation  from  the  War  Committee  was  on  its  way  to 
Albany,,  August  7th,  Captain  James  W.  Snyder,  from  the  town 
of  Wolcott,  drove  into  Auburn  with  his  would-be  soldiers,  re 
ceiving  such  an  ovation  as  was  afterwards  paid  to  those  who 
came  home  from  the  war.  That  was  before  the  days  of  electric 
railways  and  cross-country  railroads,  so  the  trip  was  made  in 
wagons^  drawn  for  the  most  part  by  four-horse  teams,  and, 
though  the  way  was  long  and  dusty,  it  was  memorable  alike 
to  those  who  rode  and  to  those  who  beheld.  The  array  was 
escorted  through  the  principal  streets,  and  citizens  vied  with 
each  other  to  make  the  reception  what  Cayuga  ought  to  offer 
to  Wayne.  However,  for  their  own  convenience  their  coming 
was  a  trifle  previous,  since  the  lllth  was  still  in  camp,  and 


SECOND  CAYUGA  AND  WAYNE   REGIMENT.  13 

temporary  quarters  were  sought  in  hotels,  private  houses,  un 
occupied  floors  of  business  blocks,  and,  on  the  authority  of 
General  Seward,  one  or  two  patriots  slept  in  empty  dry  goods 
boxes  in  the  street.  At  any  other  time  than  this,  other  reasons 
than  crowded  quarters,  very  likely,  would  be  assigned  for  the 
latter  lodgings. 

Either  pure  patriotism  or  fear  of  the  draft  was  doing  excel 
lent  work  in  central  New  York.  At  a  single  meeting  in  Red 
Creek,  forty  men  signed  the  roll,  and  in  two  weeks,  from  July 
25th,  143  enlisted  in  this  yillage.  The  future  Colonel  Snyder 
did  telling  work.  At  a  war  meeting  in  Rose  July  27th,  ad 
dressed  by  the  Rev.  A.  M.  Roe,  then  of  Oneida  county,  but 
formerly  of  Rose,  the  assembled  farmers  subscribed  $100  to 
help  on  the  cause. 

As  the  lllth  did  not  depart  for  the  front  till  August  21,  it  will 
be  seen  that  for  some  time  furloughs  home  were  not  very  diffi 
cult  to  obtain.  To  go  home  and  to  remain  there  till  directed  to 
report  in  Auburn,  was  the  welcome  order  to  many  a  boy  to  whom 
enlistment  began  to  have  a  serious  flavor.  It  is  safe  to  say 
that  never  in  his  life  had  that  same  home  seemed  dearer  than 
when  he  contemplated  the  possibilities  of  an  everlasting  fare 
well.  One  young  man's  story  may  serve  as  a  picture  of  many 
experiences:  "I  enlisted  Sunday,  about  5  o'clock  in  the  after 
noon.  I  hitched  the  bay  horse  to  my  sulky  at  9  P.  M.  and 
started  for  Auburn,  which  place  I  reached  at  1  A.  M.  the  next 
morning.  That  twenty-seven  miles'  ride  in  the  night  can  never 
be  forgotten.  The  leaving  of  wife  and  little  boys  and  parents, 
with  all  that  I  had  held  dear,  made  me,  several  times,  pull  the 
reins  and  say,  'I  can't  go,'  then  the  thoughts  of  rebels,  march 
ing  northward  towards  those  same  loved  ones,  would  come  into 
my  head  and  I  shouted,  'Go  on,  Jack,'  and  I  was  duly  mustered 
in." 

Had  all  the  fervid  words  uttered  in  Cayuga  and  Wayne,  dur 
ing  these  enlistment  months  of  July  and  August,  been  pre 
served,  while  they  would  be  found  freighted  with  intensest 
loyalty,  readers  of  to-day  would  be  vastly  more  interested  in 
what  the  soldiers  did  than  in  what  their  prompters  said.  Every 
township  and  almost  every  calling  had  its  representatives,  thus 
confirming  the  words  of  Count  de  Rochambeau,  our  French 
ally  in  the  Revolution:  "In  America,  men  of  every  trade  are 
soldiers,  but  none  are  soldiers  by  trade." 


14  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

On  the  departure  of  the  lllth  August  21st,  Camp  Halleck 
was  immediately  organized,  and  the  men  were  called  in.  Col 
onel  Welling  assumed  command  in  accordance  with  the  fol 
lowing  order  from  Albany: 

GENERAL  HEADQUARTERS,  STATE  OF  NEW  YORK, 

ADJUTANT  GENERAL'S  OFFICE, 

ALBANY,  August  12,  1862. 

Special  Orders  No.  425. 

Captain  Joseph  Welling  is  hereby  appointed  Colonel  of  an  additional 
Regiment  of  Volunteers  to  be  organized  in  the  25th  Senatorial  Dis 
trict  of  this  State  under  the  call  of  July  2d,  1862.  The  Commission  to 
be  issued  on  the  completion  of  the  regiment. 

Colonel  Welling  will  without  delay  establish  his  headquarters  at 
the  city  of  Auburn  and  pr6ceed  in  the  organization  of  the  Regiment 
in  conformity  with  the  provisions  of  General  Orders  No.  52  from  this 
Department. 

By  order  of  the  Commander-in-Chief, 

THOMAS  HILLHOUSE, 
Adjutant  General. 

The  spot  selected  for  the  camp  on  Moravia  street,  south  of 
Owasco  creek,  did  long  and  valuable  service,  during  the  war 
period,  as  a  mustering  place  for  regiments  and  recruits.  It  was 
central,  conveniently  reached,  and  thousands  went  thence  to 
the  field  of  strife,  many  never  to  return.  When  last  visited 
there  were  no  traces  of  the  ancient  camp,  but  thistles  and 
other  weeds  grew  rank  over  the  area  where  erstwhile,  begin 
ning  soldiers  learned  their  rudiments  and  dreamed  of  glory  to 
be  won  in  coming  days.  So  near  the  city,  it  is  not  a  little 
strange  that  building  advances  have  not  covered  these  acres 
with  the  abodes  of  men.  They  are  still  bare,  and  he  who  will 
may  sit  upon  the  enclosing  fence,  possibly  a  war  relic,  and 
moralize  on  the  mutability  of  human  plans.  By  far  the  greater 
number  of  those  who  here  essayed  the  fortunes  of  war  have, 
ere  this,  been  mustered  into  another  life. 

Camp  "Halleck"  w^as  a  tribute  in  name  to  Henry  Wager 
Halleck,  an  Oneida  county  man,  a  graduate  of  West  Point, 
then  gaining  some  distinction  in  Washington  circles  as  "Old 
Brains,"  but  he  never  won,  in  the  Cabinet  nor  in  the  field,  the 
honors  that  his  admirers  would  have  been  glad  to  see  him 
wear.  However,  places  must  have  names,  and  the  first  camp 


SECOND  CAYUGA  AND  WAYNE  REGIMENT.  15 

of  our  regiment  was  thus  designated.  Hither  repaired  the  boys 
and  men  from  Cayuga  and  Wayne.  The  ranks  were  practically 
full  when  the  camp  was  formed,  and  it  is  safe  to  say  that  no 
similar  organization,  in  the  Empire  State,  ever  had  a  more 
spontaneous  nor  enthusiastic  raising  than  this  of  ours. 

THE  FIELD  OFFICERS  AND  STAFF  WERE: 

Colonel,  Joseph  Welling  of  Wayne. 

Lieutenant  Colonel,  William  H.  Seward,  Jr.,  of  Cayuga. 

Major,  Edward  P.  Taft,  Wayne. 

Adjutant,  William  R.  Wasson,  Cayuga. 

Quartermaster,  Henry  P.  Knowles,  Wayne. 

Surgeon,  Samuel  A.  Sabin,  Wayne. 

Chaplain,  Warham  Mudge,  Wayne. 

The  first  ten  companies,  ready  August  26th,  were  as  follows : 

FROM   WAYNE  COUNTY  I 

Co.  A,  Captain,  James  W.  Snyder;  First  Lieut.,  James  H.  Hyde; 
Second  Lieut.,  Rufus  M.  Campbell. 

Co.  B,  Captain,  Truman  Gregory;  First  Lieut.,  Nelson  F.  Strick 
land;  Second  Lieut.,  William  E.  Greenwood. 

Co.  D,  Captain,  Charles  L.  Lyon;  First  Lieut.,  Anson  S.  Wood; 
Second  Lieut.,  Samuel  C.  Redgraves. 

Co.  a,  Captain,  William  Wood;  First  Lieut.,  William  Hawley; 
Second  Lieut.,  Seymour  Woodward. 

Co.  H,  Captain,  John  L.  Crane;  First  Lieut.,  Tunis  Vosburg; 
Second  Lieut.,  Daniel  B.  Harmon. 

FROM    CAYUGA    COUNTY I 

Co.  C,  Captain,  Loyal  W.  Alden;  First  Lieut.,  Harvey  W.  Fol- 

lett;  Second  Lieut,  Marshall  W.  Burke. 
Co.  E,  Captain,  Selah  Cornwell;  First  Lieut.,  Seth  F.  Swift; 

Second  Lieut.,  George  C.  Stoyell. 
Co.  F,  Captain,  Charles  Burgess;  First  Lieut.,  Geo.  W.  Bacon; 

Second  Lieut.,  Sullivan  B.  Lamoreaux. 
Co.  /,  Captain,  Hugh    Hughes;    First    Lieut.,  Orson  Howard; 

Second  Lieut.,  Philip  R.  Freeoff. 

FROM  CAYUGA  AND  WAYNE  : 

Co.  K,  Captain,  Irvin  Squyer;  First  Lieut.,  Dennis  E.  Flynn; 
Second  Lieut.,  George  P.  Knapp. 


16  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

The  foregoing  represent  the  organization  as  affected  in  Au 
burn.  Later,  when  the  regiment  became  the  9th  Heavy  Artil 
lery,  two  new  companies  were  added,  as  follows: 

Co.  M,  Captain,  John  I).  Numan;  First  Lieuts.,  Melanchthon 
W.  Brown  and  William  DeW.  Pringle;  Second  Lieuts., 
Robert  C.  Worthington  and  Edwin  J.  Clark. 

Organized  at  Lockport  as  the  22d  Independent  Battery,  it 
was  principally  a  Genesee  county  company.  Its  final  disposi 
tion,  as  is  seen,  was  a  union  with  the  9th. 

Co.  L,  Captain,  Frank  A.  Sinclair;  First  Lieuts.,  S.  Augustus 
Howe  and  Joseph  W.  Jewhurst;  Second  Lieuts.,  Wil 
liam  W.  Sinclair  and  Charles  W.  Squyer. 

This  company,  made  up  largely  of  veterans,  was  recruited 
in  various  parts  of  the  state,  but  to  a  considerable  extent  iu 
Oswego  county. 

Camp  life  in  Auburn  or  Camp  Halleck  differed  in  no  essen 
tial  respect  from  that  in  scores  of  similar  places  in  other  por 
tions  of  the  country.  To  a  considerable  extent,  officers  and 
men  were  beginners  together.  WThile  Colonel  Wrelling  had  the 
title  of  captain  from  some  local  company,  Lieut.  Colonel  Seward 
had  been  a  private  in  the  Auburn  Cadets.  Major  Taft  and 
Lieut.  Wood  had  served  in  the  militia,  and  very  likely  other 
officers  had  had  more  or  less  of  similar  service.  There  were 
no  West  Point  attainments  to  which  the  greenness  of  newly 
enlisted  boys  was  almost  criminal.  Alike  learners,  all  had 
charity  for  the  defects  of  each.  Field,  line,  file,  and  the  ranks 
had  need  of  close  study  of  Casey's  Tactics,  and  nearly  every 
man  tried  to  do  his  best.  Military  rigor  in  the  maintenance  of 
camp  was  not  only  distasteful,  but,  to  the  minds  of  many  of 
these  lively  country  boys,  quite  unnecessary.  Except  for  the 
temporary  restraint  of  school  days,  there  had  been  few  days 
in  their  lives  when  they  could  not  come  and  go  when  and 
where  they  chose.  Hence,  guards,  passes  and  countersigns 
were  not  over-popular.  Indeed,  on  one  occasion,  September  5th, 
just  one  week  before  the  departure  of  the  regiment,  a  barn 
was  consumed  by  fire  in  plain  view  of  the  camp.  The  boys, 
many  of  them,  were  not  used  to  conflagrations  like  this,  and 
those  who  were  had  been  accustomed  to  run  when  they  liked. 


SECOND  CAYUGA  AND  WAYNE  REGIMENT.  17 

In  spite  of  guards,  they  went,  pell-mell,  to  the  creek  which 
intervened  between  them  and  the  fire.  Nothing  but  a  thorough 
drenching  brought  some  of  them  to  their  senses,  and  a  realiza 
tion  that  they  had  flagrantly  violated  the  rules  of  camp.  The 
guards  had  threatened  to  shoot  with  their  unloaded  guns,  but 
were  only  laughed  at  for  their  pains.  In  fact,  all  things  con 
sidered,  said  guards  are  entitled  to  considerable  credit,  in  that 
they  did  not  run  also.  The  boys,  however,  were  culpable,  and 
before  morning  they  began  to  comprehend  the  nature  of  their 
offense.  The  officers  held  a  council  on  the  matter,  but  finding 
fully  one-third  of  all  those  in  camp  to  be  offenders,  it  was  con 
cluded  to  strain  the  quality  of  mercy  and  to  let  them  off  for 
this  time.  This  wise  conclusion  was  all  the  more  readily 
reached  in  that  punishment  for  so  large  a  number  was  difficult 
to  devise.  As  an  offset,  it  is  chronicled  that  certain  soldiers, 
on  their  very  first  Sunday  in  camp,  went  to  the  Episcopal 
Church,  where  the  Sewards  attended,  and  on  that  same  Sunday 
organized  a  Bible  class  with  twelve  members.  Stephen  Reeves, 
of  Company  B,  was  chosen  teacher,  and  the  class  had  regular 
meetings  till  active  service  in  the  field  began.  Their  first  les 
son  was  the  second  chapter  of  Matthew.  Apparently  only  the 
"begat"  recital  prevented  their  taking  the  first  chapter,  for  it 
is  evident  they  set  out  with  the  intention  of  going  through  the 
New  Testament  if  the  war  lasted  long  enough. 

Perhaps  no  more  ludicrous  incident  is  recalled  of  the  stay  in 
Camp  Halleck  than  that  on  parade,  when  Lieut.  Colonel 
Seward's  horse,  like  many  of  the  soldiers,  just  from  the  farm, 
deliberately  lay  down,  so  frightened  was  he  at  the  firing  of  a 
cannon.  Even  military  dignity  could  not  restrain  the  risibles 
of  amused  beholders. 

Camp  regimen  and  lodging  had  their  day  and  night  of 
wonder.  The  secrets  of  his  prison-house,  which  the  ghost  of 
Hamlet's  father  wisely  withheld,  could  not  have  been  more 
astonishing  than  those  of  the  cook-house,  whose  mysteries  few 
ever  had  the  temerity  to  penetrate.  The  preparation  of  food 
in  large  quantities  for  so  great  an  array  of  eaters,  inevitably 
produced  conditions  quite  repulsive  to  boys  who,  in  the  main, 
had  known  only  "mother's  cooking,"  but  even  they,  in  time, 
grew  used  to  "salt  horse,"  potatoes  with  "skins  on,"  and  the 
entire  absence  of  side  dishes,  which  so  bountifully  bespread 
the  home  table.  Crockery  and  cutlery  were  not  of  an  extrav- 
2 


18  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

agant  nature,  and  men  soon  learned  how  many  seeming  neces 
sities  there  were  without  which  they  could  get  along  nicely. 
No  feathers  nor  spring  mattresses  wooed  the  drowsy  god's 
embrace,  nor  were  there  sheets  of  snowy  whiteness  to  receive 
wearied  bodies.  Three-tiered  bunks,  with  not  over-generous 
supplies  of  straw,  covered  with  blankets,  soon  proved  a  bed 
on  which  the  sweetest  rest  could  be  found.  So  readily  on  neces 
sity  do  we  part  with  the  veneer  of  civilization !  The  very  wisest 
of  philosophers  do  not  yet  know  when  we  live  nearest  to 
nature's  heart. 

There  were  amenities  in  those  days  worthy  of  record.  Thus, 
on  August  30,  Lieut.  S.  F.  Swift,  of  Company  E,  was  made  the 
recipient,  on  dress  parade,  of  a  sword  by  his  parents  and  wife. 
The  Hon.  Christopher  Morgan  made  the  presentation,  and  it 
was  received  for  the  modest  officer  by  N.  T.  Stephens,  Esq. 
The  same  day  saw  sword,  belt,  etc.,  given  to  Captain  Burgess, 
of  Company  F,  by  the  North  Street  Methodist  Church,  and  on 
the  following  Sunday,  the  Sunday-school  gave  to  him,  the  retir 
ing  superintendent,  a  Bible.  On  this  same  Sunday  Captain 
Squyer  was  presented  with  a  sword  by  his  fellow  citizens  of  Ira. 
Monday  Lieut.  Col.  Seward  was  similarly  remembered.  Septem 
ber  4th  Company  I  indicated  its  appreciation  of  Captain  Hughes 
by  giving  him  a  sword;  Lieut.  Hyde  received  his  weapon  from 
the  ladies  of  Huron  and  Wolcott,  and  on  the  10th  came  the 
presentation  of  regimental  colors. 

On  the  8th  of  September  all  the  companies,  except  Company 
B,  were  mustered  into  the  service  of  the  United  States  for  three 
years  by  Captain  H.  DeB.  Clay,  of  the  14th  U.  S.  Infantry. 
Company  B,  with  the  field  and  staff,  were  mustered  the  fol 
lowing  day,  but  it  was  not  till  the  29th  day  of  the  month  that 
the  organization  was  officially  designated  as  the  138th  Infantry. 

The  twenty-four  hours  immediately  following  the  muster-in 
appear  to  have  been  particularly  lively,  for  again  the  careful 
chronicler  states  that  police  and  guard  duty  kept  him  up  all 
night.  Possibly  exhilaration  incident  to  new  obligations  was 
responsible  for  the  pandemonium  that  ensued.  "Many  ran  the 
guard;  the  sutler's  quarters  were  attacked;  the  barber-shop 
was  burned;  one  man  was  put  in  the  dungeon  for  inciting  a 
mob  against  the  cook-house.  His  fellows  pulled  the  staple  and 
let  him  out.  An  officer,  high  in  command,  chased  a  private 
around  the  camp,  swearing  at  him  and  even  threatening  to 


FROM  AUBURN  TO  WASHINGTON.  19 

shoot  him.  The  men  were  paid,  but  not  in  full,  two  dollars 
each  being  retained  to  be  distributed  later;  reason,  a  lack  of 
small  bills.  Citizens  were  driven  from  the  camp,  all  of  whose 
approaches  were  thronged  with  people.  At  dress-parade  the 
men  were  told  that  no  orders  to  move  had  been  received.  Dur 
ing  the  night  a  party  of  men  went  out  after  water.  While  away 
the  guard  was  changed  and  the  new  one  refused  to  let  the  men 
in,who, nothing  loth, proceeded  to  the  city  for  accommodations." 
Thus  the  story  runs  on,  trivial,  possibly,  to-day,  but  exciting 
and  interesting  then.  A  peculiar  entry  is  made  in  one  diary 
to  the  effect  that,  September  10th,  ladies  of  the  city  fix  pockets 
on  the  soldiers'  coats,  certainly  ministering  angels  then.  Dur 
ing  all  of  these  days  in  early  September,  rumors  of  departure 
were  rife.  Uniforms  had  been  distributed  and  arrangements 
made  to  leave  on  the  10th  and  again  on  the  llth,  and  on  the 
later  date  citizens  sent  in  a  lunch  for  the  men.  This  proved 
to  be  the  last  day  in  Camp  Halleck  for  the  138th  New  York 
Volunteer  Infantry,  or  the  second  Cayuga  and  Wayne  regi 
ment. 


CHAPTER   II. 

FROM  AUBURN  TO  WASHINGTON. 

The  morning  of  Friday,  September  12th,  came  early,  for  the 
camp  was  roused  at  4  o'clock.  This  was  to  be  the  day  of  de 
parture,  so  long  expected  and  so  often  deferred.  Few  thought 
of  it  as  an  unlucky  day,  since  the  inherent  desire  for  a  change,  of 
whatever  kind,  overbore  all  ancient  superstitions.  Still  it  was 
8  o'clock  before  the  extra  train  drew  out  of  the  city.  Enlisted 
to  its  maximum,  officers  and  men  were  justly  exultant  over  the 
prospect.  The  first  intentions  had  been  to  go  south  by  the 
way  of  Harrisburg,  but  possible  troubles  on  the  Northern  Cen 
tral  railroad  rendered  the  New  York  city  route  preferable. 
If  the  old  station  in  Auburn  could  only  talk,  what  a  recital  it 
might  give  of  leave-takings  beneath  its  somewhat  dingy  cover 
ing.  Hearts  in  the  nearby  state's  prison*  could  not  be  sadder, 


*The  main  entrance  to  New  York's  largest  prison,  where  several 
thousands  of  convicts  are  confined,  is  just  opposite  the  railroad  sta 
tion. 


20  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

though  theirs  were  sad  enough,  than  those  which  beat  with 
extra  emphasis  as  the  hasty  good-by  kiss  was  here  snatched 
and  hands  were  finally  shaken.  Friends,  to  remain  in  the  now 
shadowed  homes,  strained  their  eyes  for  a  last  glimpse  of  those 
whom  the  iron  horse  bore  swiftly  away.  The  latter,  though 
hurrying  to  scenes  of  toil  and  danger,  were  still  to  have  their 
minds  absorbed  by  new  sights  and  new  interests.  The  depart 
ing  ones  were  to  act,  and  so  be  diverted  from  absorbing 
thought,  but  those  at  home,  with  the  monotonous  round  of 
daily  duties,  were  to  think  and  think — to  consume  their  souls 
with  carking  care,  and  thus,  with  wrinkled  brows  and  whitened 
locks,  to  grow  old  before  their  time. 

All  this  is  retrospective.  At  the  time  itself  the  long  train 
sped  away  towards  Syracuse;  Oneida  was  reached  at  noon, 
where  some  may  have  lunched,  but  cooked  rations  of  bread  and 
meat  were  distributed  through  the  train.  Again  the  boys 
felt  the  restraint  supposed  to  be  necessary  when  the  sovereign 
American  became  a  soldier.  Lest  the  freely  enlisted  man 
should  leave  the  cars  without  asking,  the  doors  were  locked, 
but  budding  battle  heroes  were  not  to  be  thus  deprived  of 
freemen's  privileges,  and  they  proceeded  with  improvised  tools 
to  unscrew  the  locks  and  to  lay  them  one  side,  though  the  way 
to  escape,  thus  opened,  does  not  seem  to  have  been  utilized. 
As  Americans,  they  breathed  more  freely  when  they  knew  that 
they  were  not  under  lock  and  key.  If  those  boys  used  their 
eyes  and  their  memories  as  they  rode  through  central  New 
York,  there  was  abundant  opportunity  to  burnish  up  their 
country's  early  history.  In  Rome  they  might  have  seen  the 
site  of  old  Fort  Stanwix,  repeatedly  besieged  by  hostile  foe, 
the  last  time  during  the  Revolution.  At  Oriskany,  toward  the 
south,  some  person  might  have  pointed  out  the  place  where 
General  Herkimer  bravely  died  in  1777,  doing  his  best  to  with 
stand  the  Indians'  savage  assaults,  and  so  advance  the  Ameri 
can  cause.  IJtica  could  show  the  site  of  Fort  Schuyler,  and,  as 
the  train  swept  along  the  banks  of  the  beautiful  Mohawk,  did 
not  more  than  one  boy,  with  music  in  his  soul,  sing: 

"Oh,  sweet  is  the  vale,  where  the  Mohawk  gently  glides, 
On  its  clear,  winding  way  to  the  sea." 

At  Schenectady,  sharp  eyes  might  have  caught  glimpses  of 
Union  College,  where  still  presided  Dr.  Eliphalet  Nott,  who, 


FROM  AUBURN  TO  WASHINGTON.  21 

more  than  forty  years  before,  bad  affixed  bis  name  to  tbe  di 
ploma  of  William  H.  Seward,  now  secretary  of  state,  and  the 
father  of  our  young  lieutenant  colonel.  After  all,  it  is  proba 
ble  that  Old  Sledge,  rather  than  old  places  and  events,  absorbed 
the  regimental  mind,  and  pictured  cards,  rather  than  pano 
ramic  nature,  filled  the  soldier's  fancy  till,  at  nightfall,  the 
train  rolled  into  Albany,  the  capital  of  the  state. 

To  dine  at  the  Delavan  House  in  those  days  was,  through 
out  the  Empire  State,  considered  pretty  near  the  climax  of 
luxury,  and  just  this  honor  was  to  be  done  the  138th,  at  the 
expense  of  the  good  people  of  this  ancient  Dutch  city,  though 
it  must  be  stated  that  the  supper  was  not  served  in  course,  nor 
a  la  carte.  A  fall  of  rain  rendered  the  event  somewhat  moist, 
and  standing  in  the  mud  was  not  over  pleasant  to  the  compa 
nies  that  had  to  bide  a  bit  for  those  who  ate  first.  However, 
everything  comes  to  him  who  waits,  and,  finally,  through  the 
back  door,  our  boys  filed  into  the  capacious  dining-room,  were 
regaled  with  sandwiches  and  coffee,  and  their  canteens  were 
filled  with  water.  To  banquet  a  thousand  men,  even  in  this 
simple  manner,  was  no  trifling  task,  and  some,  towards  the  end, 
had  to  eat  rather  hurriedly,  but  all  marched  away  through 
the  mud  and  the  rain  to  the  ferry,  for  this  was  long  before 
the  days  of  Hudson  river  bridges.  It  is  claimed  that  Colonel 
Welling  found  freight  cars  in  waiting  to  take  his  men  to  New 
York.  To  this  the  colonel  stoutly  objected,  saying  that  his 
soldiers  should  not  leave  their  native  state  like  cattle,  and  that 
unless  better  cars  could  be  found  he  would  camp  right  there. 
His  persistence  prevailed,  and  railroad  resources  soon  devel 
oped  better  facilities  for  transportation. 

At  10  o'clock  P.  M.  the  regiment  was  again  in  motion,  but 
even  cards  yield  to  the  influence  of  Morpheus,  and  beds  are 
made  upon  the  floor,  space  there  for  the  same  being  found, 
since  the  seats  were  arranged  around  the  sides  of  the  cars. 
Only  in  dreams  are  seen  Sir  Henry  Hudson  and  his  ship,  the 
Half  Moon;  West  Point,  the  nursery  of  heroes,  and  the  Pali 
sades,  rivaling  in  grandeur  the  shores  of  the  Rhine.  Were  the 
games  of  Rip  Van  Winkle's  bowlers  a  hundredfold  louder,  all 
their  din  had  been  drowned  in  the  noise  of  our  train  as  it 
swept  through  the  Catskills.  Tarrytown  scarcely  evoked  a 
single  memory  of  Revolutionary  cow-boys,  for  the  soldiers 
slumbered  on  till,  at  daybreak,  New  York  was  reached. 


22  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Thereupon  followed  on  this,  the  13th  day  of  September,  a  short 
march  to  City  Hall  park,  where  quick  Wayne  and  Cayuga  eyes 
detected  the  printing  offices  of  the  Times  and  Tribune,  papers 
that,  in  many  homes,  were  rated  next  to  the  Bible.  Some  of 
the  boys  fully  expected  to  see  Horace  Greeley  step  forth,  white 
overcoat  and  all,  to  receive  them.  To  some,  the  barracks  were 
not  agreeable,  and  the  open  air  was  preferred  as  a  camping- 
place  to  the  somewhat  suspicious  interior,  where,  to  put  it  mild 
ly,  excessive  neatness  did  not  reign.  At  9.15  breakfast  had  not 
been  served  to  at  least  some  of  these  early  rising  boys  from 
the  country,  whose  gastric  condition  may  readily  be  imagined. 
With  mingling  of  bitter  and  sweet,  the  day  passed  till,  at  6 
P.  M.,  objectors  to  the  first  proffered  barracks  were  marched  to 
better  ones  opposite  the  Astor  House,  now  the  site  of  New 
York's  great  post-office.  There  were  all  sorts  of  ways  to  pass 
the  time;  one  writer  says  he  spent  the  day  at  the  Astor  House, 
but  had  to  go  on  guard  at  night.  Surely  his  purse  must  have 
been  supplied  from  some  other  source  than  his  soldier's  wages, 
a  whole  month  of  which  would  not  have  paid  three  days'  living 
in  what  was  then  America's  most  famous  hostelry.  Central 
Park  was  just  beginning  its  career  of  splendor,  and  many 
sought  its  beautiful  walks.  Barnum's  show  was  close  by,  and  it 
had  many  a  visitor  from  the  25th  Senatorial  District,  to  whom 
Barnum's  name  had  long  been  synonymous  with  all  that  was 
curious  and  wonderful.  There  was  no  Trouble  in  passing  a  day 
in  New  York,  if  only  one  could  get  out. 

Sunday  found  the  regiment  ready  to  go  or  stay,  as  pleased 
the  authorities.  Among  other  diversions  of  the  day,  a  party 
of  fifteen,  under  charge  of  a  sergeant,  was  made  up  to  cross 
over  to  Brooklyn  to  hear  Henry  Ward  Beecher  preach  in  his  own 
Plymouth  pulpit.  He  had  just  returned  from  his  vacation,  and 
the  uniformed  visitors  were  promising  themselves  a  brilliant 
treat,  when,  in  the  midst  of  the  preacher's  prayer,  they  were 
summoned  by  special  messenger,  Lieut.  Greenwood  of  Company 
B,  and  ordered  to  return  at  once  to  camp,  for  the  regiment  was 
about  to  move.  So  out  they  went  and  hurried  back  to  City 
Hall  park,  but  not  to  march  away,  only  to  receive  the  remainder 
of  their  military  outfit.  Their  guns  were  the  obsolete  Belgian 
rifles  with  sabre  bayonet,  and, with  the  accompanying  cartridge- 
boxes,  they  became  soldiers  indeed.  But  they  were  not  to  be 
deprived  of  a  sermon,  though  he  was  not  Beecher  who  talked. 


FROM  AUBURN  TO  WASHINGTON. 


23 


Chaplain  Mudge  here  preached  his  first  sermon  in  camp,  and 
was  followed  by  Capt.  Gregory  of  Company  B,  also  a  clergyman. 
A  stranger  who  had  been  in  the  South  also  tried  to  make  up 
the  Beecher  loss,  and  small  hymn-books,  then  given  out,  served 
as  tangible  mementoes  of  the  day  and  hour.  Company  B's 
Bible  class  had  a  short  meeting,  and  the  evening  diversion  was 
an  address  by  Parson  Brownlow  of  Tennessee  in  the  barrack*. 
As  many  chroniclers  mention  his  remarks  in  close  connection 
with  their  recollections  of  Barnum,  it  is  not  difficult  to  infer 
what  kind  of  impression  the  sulphurous  sentiments  of  the 
Knoxville  preacher  made  on  his  Cayuga  and  Wayne  listeners. 
No  one  doubted  his  intense  loyalty  and  thorough  bravery, 


r 


From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 

THE  UNION  VOLUNTEER  SALOON. 

though  some  must  have  recalled  sundry  punishments,  received 
in  their  boyhood,  for  using  language  far  less  emphatic.  From 
the  foregoing,  it  must  not  be  inferred  that  all  members  of  the 
138th  were  on  church  attendance  bent,  for  there  were  those  who 
were  given  to  excessive  imbibings  at  gardens,  more  or  less  re 
mote,  and  whose  resultant  condition  rendered  their  return  more 
peremptory  and  also  more  noisy  than  that  of  the  men  who  had 
endeavored  to  remember  the  fourth  commandment. 

Monday  morning  begins  at  4.30  with  some  of  these  men,  but 
it  is  fully  half  past  ten  before  they  march  to  the  Hudson  river 
and  cross  by  ferry  to  Monmouth  Point,  N.  J.  Thence  by  rail 
the  regiment  is  again  flying  southward.  Western  New  York 
eyes  note  a  wide  difference  in  the  respective  localities.  Hucklo- 


24 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


berry  bushes,  scrub-oak  and  pines  take  the  place  of  more  stately 
trees  in  their  own  more  favored  section.  In  this  barren  land, 
two  misguided  men  desert,  and  when  their  captain  reports  the 
same,  he  is  consoled  with  the  reply,  "Let  the  d — d  fools  go,  they 
will  have  the  worst  of  it."  All  the  afternoon  and  evening  are 
passed  in  their  New  Jersey  ride,  and  it  is  nearly  midnight  when 
Pennsylvania's  chief  city  is  reached.  But  it  made  no  difference 
in  Philadelphia  at  what  hour  soldiers  arrived,  early  or  late, 
from  the  27th  of  May,  1861,  till  the  last  weary  boy  in  blue  had 
returned  to  his  northern  home,  the  good  people  of  this  City  of 
Brotherly  Love  fully  exemplified  their  name.  Nearly  1,200,- 


From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 

THE    COOPER    SHOP. 

000  men,  first  and  last,  had  occasion  to  call  down  blessings 
on  the  heads  of  these  women  and  men  who  fed  in  their  Cooper 
Shop  and  Union  the  hungry  brave.  Note  the  bill  of  fare, 
"Bread  and  butter,  ham  and  cold  beef."  Is  there  any  wonder- 
that  many  a  boy  entered  in  his  diary,  after  his  account  of  the 
feast,  the  words,  "First  class"?  The  northern  soldier  who  does 
not  remember  the  hospitality  of  Philadelphia  lacks  something 
in  his  war  memories. 

One  day  dies  and  another  is  born  while  the  boys  are  eating, 
and  their  start  for  Baltimore  is  very  early,  since  they  are  loaded 
into  freight  cars  at  3  o'clock,  and  are  off  for  the  Monumental 
City,  on  this  the  16th  day  of  the  month.  It  is  noted  that  Dela- 


THROUGH  WASHINGTON.  25 

ware  and  Maryland  are  wanting  in  New  Jersey's  enthu 
siasm,  but  on  reaching  Baltimore  at  about  noon  the  flags  are 
flying  gorgeously.  Our  farmer  boys  continue  to  notice  the  dif 
ferences  in  soil  and  crops  from  those  familiar  to  them,  and, 
also,  they  see  their  approach  to  military  rule,  in  that  for  sixty 
miles  north  of  Baltimore  guard  duty  is  done  along  the  railroad 
by  companies  of  the  110th  New  York,  an  Oswego  county  regi 
ment.  The  stay  in  Baltimore  is  short,  though  it  rouses  memo 
ries  of  the  assault  on  the  Massachusetts  6th  on  April  19th  of  the 
preceding  year.  Naturally  our  boys  viewed  the  city  apprehen 
sively,  but  Colonel  Welling  had  given  strict  orders  against  load 
ing  guns  without  command.  Still,  there  were  few  unloaded 
pieces  by  the  time  the  march  was  half  over.  The  regiment,  as 
yet,  knew  very  little  of  discipline,  and  there  would  have  been 
a  "hot  time  in  the  old  town"  had  the  citizens  in  any  way  mo 
lested  the  line. 

At  6  P.  M.,  or  thereabouts,  the  men  still  in  freight  cars  are 
steaming  towards  Washington,  long  the  desired  goal  of  these 
thousand  embryonic  soldiers.  In  passing  the  Relay  House, 
friendly  eyes  detected  familiar  forms  among  certain  paroled 
prisoners,  just  from  Harper's  Ferry,  where  they  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  Stonewall  Jackson.  They  are,  like  ourselves,  boys 
from  Cayuga  and  Wayne,  members  of  the  lllth  and  the  8th 
Cavalry,  victims  of  General  D.  S.  Miles's  cowardice,  or  worse. 

At  11  o'clock  we  go  supperless  to  bed  in  city  barracks,  some 
times  misnamed  "Soldiers'  Best."  Some,  however,  prefer  to 
spend  the  remainder  of  the  night  on  the  depot  floor.  Certain 
officers  sally  forth  for  a  sleep  at  Willard's  Hotel,  which  a  few 
verdant  ones  think  they  find  in  the  Capitol's  majestic 
front.  There  is  scarcely  a  member  of  the  regiment  who  does 
not  feel  he  is  more  of  a  soldier  now  that  he  is  actually  in  the 
same  citv  with  Abraham  Lincoln. 


CHAPTEB     III. 

THROUGH  WASHINGTON. 

While  our  newly-arrived  soldiers  were  gazing  with  admira 
tion  and  wonder  on  the  nation's  Capitol,  their  brothers,  scarcely 
more  than  fifty  miles  away,  were  fighting  the  bloodiest  single 


26  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

battle  of  the  war,  for  the  first  day  of  the  138th  in  Washington 
was  Wednesday,  the  17th  day  of  September,  1862,  that  year 
indissolubly  associated  with  the  battle  of  Antietam.  Had  our 
departure  from  Auburn  been  a  trifle  earlier,  it  is  probable  that 
the  whole  subsequent  history  of  the  regiment  would  have  been 
very  different.  Our  Camp  Halleck  predecessors,  the  lllth,  reached 
the  seat  of  war  early  enough  to  participate  in  the  campaign 
and  to  make  a  part  of  General  D.  S.  Miles's  sad  sacrifice  at 
Harper's  Ferry.  A  week  earlier  in  Washington,  and  there  might 
have  been  no  9th  Heavy  Artillery,  at  least  for  us,  and  a  bloody 
baptism  at  Antietam,  or  a  surrender  at  the  scene  of  John 
Brown's  foray,  would  have  insured  the  retention  of  the  nu 
merals  first  assigned  us,  and  we  should  have  continued  to  be 
infantry  in  name  as  well  as  deed,  as  we  really  were  when  we 
went  into  active  service.  These  are  after-thoughts. 

To  the  great  majority  of  the  rank  and  file  of  the  regiment, 
the  rising  sun  of  the  17th  revealed  Washington  for  the  first 
time.  For  many  years  a  city  of  magnificent  distances,  she  was 
in  1862  but  a  skeleton  of  her  subsequent  self.  The  avenues 
and  streets,  devised  and  laid  out  by  M.  L'Enfant,  the  French 
engineer,  were  all  there  and  some  of  the  grand  public  buildings 
were  then  as  now  but  the  finish,  the  end  of  the  century  knows 
was  yet  to  be.  Workmen  were  toiling  on  the  uncompleted 
Capitol.  Like  pygmies,  some  of  them  were  seen  working  at 
dizzy  heights.  Looking  away  from  the  great  building,  nearer 
terra  firma,  the  prospect  was  not  altogether  entrancing.  The 
canal  connecting  the  Eastern  Branch  and  the  Potomac  then, 
as  it  continued  to  do  for  years  afterwards,  dispensed  an  odor 
that  was  not  altogether  aromatic.  What  it  may  have  lacked 
in  the  "two  and  twenty  stenches,"  ascribed  to  the  city  of  Co 
logne,  was  fully  made  up  by  open  sewers  and  the  garbage 
freely  consigned  to  the  streets.  Mud  reigned  supreme,  and  an 
army  lost  in  Pennsylvania  avenue  was  not  so  strange  a  hap 
pening  to  those  who  saw  this  famous  thoroughfare  in  1861-65 
as  it  might  be  to  them  who  know  it  only  in  its  present  concreted 
condition.  Our  boys  who  had  come  so  far  to  save  the  Capital 
were  not  a  little  disgusted  at  finding  themselves  debarred  from 
its  chief  edifice  on  account  of  the  exigencies  of  building.  They 
did,  however,  walk  around  it,  and  unanimously  agreed  that  it 
was  considerably  larger  than  the  Court  Houses  of  Auburn  and 
Lyons,  larger  even  than  the  Capitol  in  Albany,  this  being  a 


THROUGH  WASHINGTON.  27 

long  time  before  New  York  entered  upon  the  most  expensive 
building  feat  in  America,  if  not  in  the  world.  They  concluded 
that  when  the  dingy  surroundings  should  have  disappeared, 
the  structure  would  stand  forth  magnificently,  an  opinion  fully 
justified  in  later  years.  The  whole  eastern  space  leading  off 
towards  Maryland  was  then  scarcely  better  than  a  barren 
waste,  broken  only  by  soldiers'  barracks,  useful,  but  very  far 
from  ornamental.  Greenough's  "Father  of  his  Country"  was 
on  the  west  side  of  the  building;  indeed,  there  was  little  then 
that  the  visitor  now  admires,  and  many  a  boy  disappointedly 
wrote  in  his  diary:  "The  city  smells  bad,  and  the  streets  are 
nasty."  However,  we  were  not  on  a  holiday  excursion  and  we 
knew  it,  still  we  had  senses  such  as  the  armies  of  the  old  world 
never  knew,  and  the  ranks  as  well  as  the  officers  had  studied 
enough  to  enable  them  to  compare  and  to  draw  conclusions. 
Scores  of  these  young  men,  just  from  the  farm,  office  and  school, 
if,  unlike  Napoleon's  soldiers,  they  had  not  possible  marshals' 
batons  in  their  knapsacks,  they  did  carry  to  the  last  day  of 
their  service  diaries  or  journals  in  which  they  daily  entered 
their  thoughts  and  observations.  Nothing  like  the  average 
American  soldier  was  ever  bred  save  on  this  continent. 

Notwithstanding  the  novelty  of  their  situation  there  was  no 
sorrow  at  the  orders  to  depart,  and  in  the  afternoon  the  line 
of  march  was  taken  up  towards  the  Potomac,  the  river  that  for 
a  year  and  a  half  had  been  more  often  named  than  any  other 
stream  in  America.  "Old  Potomac's  Shore"  and  "All  quiet  on 
the  Potomac"  were  in  many  minds  as  the  boys  marched  towards 
the  Long  Bridge.  At  their  right  they  could  see  the  Post  Office, 
the  Patent  Office,  the  Treasury,  and  the  White  House,  where 
Abraham  Lincoln  was  giving  his  life  to  the  public  weal,  and 
nearer  by,  in  a  vast  cattle  corral,  was  the  stubby  column  which 
years  later  was  to  become  the  tallest  in  the  land,  a  monument 
to  Washington.  Out  upon  the  Long  Bridge  we  went,  the  same 
structure  that  had  borne  the  soldiers  going  to  Bull  Run,  and 
at  the  close  of  the  day  received  the  hapless,  panting  fugitives 
returning  therefrom.  Forts  Jackson  and  Kunyon  guarded  the 
Virginia  end.  Once  across  the  regiment  deflected  to  the  right, 
and  bore  away  towards  Arlington,  and  at  9  P.  M.  went  into 
camp,  our  first  actual  experience  of  out-of-doors  soldiers'  life, 
for  hitherto  there  had  been  more  or  less  of  barracks  to  cover 
us.  It  is  Camp  Chase  in  which  we  find  ourselves,  thus  named 


28  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

from  Salmon  P.  Chase  of  Ohio,  secretary  of  the  treasury,  one 
of  President  Lincoln's  advisers.  The  location  is  a  little  beyond 
Fort  Albany,  and  is  on  the  eastern  slope  of  Arlington 
Heights.  Their  first  real  march  was  simply  a  foretaste  of  what 
was  to  follow,  but  if  those  men  of  September,  1862,  who  paid 
ten  cents  each  to  sundry  small  boys  and  darkies  for  carrying 
their  pursey  knapsacks,  could  have  looked  forward  two  years 
and  thus  see  themselves  with  the  scant  baggage  of  1864,  what 
smiles  would  have  overspread  their  faces  at  the  thought  of 
what  they  now  consider  essential  to  their  comfort,  as  compared 
with  what  they  then  found  they  could  easily  do  without.  They 
were  very  large  bundles  that,  systematically  packed,  over 
topped  the  heads  of  many  a  soldier,  and  they  had  scarcely  more 
than  the  regulations  demanded,  but  later  every  man  learned 
to  think  for  himself.  As  always  happened  in  going  into  camp, 
there  were  marchings  and  counterrnarchings.  Indeed,  getting 
settled  in  camp  was  not  unlike  the  conduct  of  a  dog  that  in 
variably  turns  around  three  times  before  lying  down.  It  was 
nearer  midnight  than  sunset  before  the  138th  had  a  chance  to 
really  rest.  There  was  a  vast  array  of  similar  humanity  en 
camped  within  sight,  and  the  illuminations  from  hundreds  of 
camp-fires  produced  an  ineffaceable  impression.  Tired,  satu 
rated  with  perspiration,  supperless,  our  boys  lay,  for  the  first 
time,  with  knapsacks  as  pillows,  upon  their  overcoats  and 
under  their  blankets.  Some  very  neat  and  careful  soldiers, 
before  they  slept,  stripped  and  thoroughly  dried  their  bodies, 
and  with  clean  underclothing  next  their  person  slumbered  all 
the  better,  but  there  came  a  time  when  such  care  was  quite  im 
possible. 

Thursday,  the  18th,  dawned  wet  and  drizzly,  the  direct  ro- 
sult,  every  soldier  knows,  of  the  terrible  day  at  Antietam,  for 
rain  always  followed  great  battles,  but  the  dawn  revealed  the 
true  character  of  our  surroundings.  An  old  deserted  field  meant 
much  clearing  up,  and  at  it  the  soldiers  went  with  a  discreet 
lookout  for  copperheads  and  rattlesnakes,  which  all  normally 
constituted  northern  boys  supposed  to  abound  in  southern 
brush.  One  would  like  to  know  how  many  soldiers  ever  saw 
a  poisonous  snake  in  Virginia.  Seldom  did  they  find  anything 
more  startling  than  a  swift,  not  half  so  disagreeable  as  a  wood- 
tick,  though  it  ran  across  his  face  as  he  rested  in  Old  Dominion 
woods.  Some  with  natural  history  tendencies  noted  turtles 


THROUGH  WASHINGTON.  29 

with  expansive  shells,  and  even  found  time  and  ability  to  catch 
a  rabbit.  We  were  then  nearer  the  enemy  than  we  had  ever 
been  before.  While  before  us  lay  Washington  and  a  sea  of 
tents,  in  the  other  direction  far-sighted  soldiers  declared  they 
could  see  rebel  pickets. 

It  was  while  drawing  rations  here  that  we  had  our  first  ex 
perience  with  bullets  in  motion.  A  squad  of  men  was  standing 
near  a  pile  of  cracker  boxes,  when  the  missiles  came  pattering 
down  among  them.  Colonel  WTelling  and  Quartermaster  Knowles 
were  sitting  on  the  boxes  at  the  time.  The  colonel  explained 
that  a  guard  detail  in  a  neighboring  camp,  unaware  of  our 
presence,  were  discharging  their  guns  on  being  relieved.  What 
ever  the  effect  in  the  adjoining  camp,  it  was  anything  but  a 
relief  to  us,  and  we  wondered  that  men  could  be  so  careless 
with  shooting-irons. 

An  inventory  of  one  soldier's  knapsack  as  he  spent  this  day 
in  full  sight  of  Washington,  is  not  out  of  place.  Some  men  may 
have  carried  more,  certainly  many  had  less.  The  man,  a  pri 
vate,  was  considerably  older  than  the  average  in  the  ranks, 
unmarried,  hence  in  his  bachelorhood  somewhat  more  partic 
ular  than  the  frisky  youths  around  him.  For  the  owner's  com 
fort  this  knapsack  contained  an  extra  pair  of  shoes,  an  old 
vest,  a  pair  of  drawers,  two  pairs  of  socks,  a  towel,  two  hand 
kerchiefs,  one-half  quire  writing  paper,  one  pack  buff  envelopes, 
penholder,  stocking-yarn  for  mending,  two  blanket-pins,  awls, 
shoe-thread,  pins,  buttons,  beeswax,  one  pound  cheese,  and  a 
tin  box  of  honey.  This  table  of  contents,  when  surmounted 
with  rubber  blanket,  fly-tent,  overcoat  and  woolen  blanket, 
made  about  all  that  one  man  wanted  to  carry,  especially  when 
there  were,  besides,  gun,  bayonet,  cartridge-box,  haversack  and 
canteen.  Before  that  soldier  again  saw  his  native  hills,  he 
found  he  could  reduce  that  stock  very  much  and  still  retain  a 
measure  of  happiness. 

Breakfast  came  late;  the  hour  from  9  to  11  o'clock  would 
have  suited  better  a  city  night  prowler  than  these  active  coun 
try  boys,  and  when  they  did  get  it  they  could  not  help  contrast 
ing  the  food  with  that  had  so  recently  in  Philadelphia.  Musty 
and  sour  bread,  said  to  have  been  brought  from  Auburn,  corned 
beef  and  a  bit  of  cheese  made  up  the  bill  of  fare.  Some  fastid 
ious  lads  went  hungry  rather  than  eat  it.  They  grew  less  par 
ticular  as  they  continued  to  wear  the  blue,  and  long  ere  they 


30  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

had  laid  it  off,  this  forenoon's  spread  would  have  been  thought 
daintiness  itself.  There  was  green  corn  on  outlying  farms,  and 
some  of  the  boys  went  for  it,  and  returned  at  5  P.  M.  to  find  the 
camp  desolate,  their  comrades  having  recrossed  the  Potomac. 
Creditable  work  had  been  done  in  clearing  up  the  pro 
spective  camping-place,  when  at  3  o'clock  P.  M.  the 
regiment  was  ordered  back  to  the  District  of  Colum 
bia,  with  Fort  Bunker  Hill  as  the  objective  point. 
Again  industrious  civilians  are  ready  to  earn  an  honest  penny 
in  carrying  overburdened  knapsacks,  for  the  march,  begun  at 
4  o'clock,  was  hot  and  dusty.  Day  had  long  since  departed 
when  these  soldier  tyros  filed  along  the  streets  of  the 
capital;  weary  and  reekingly  hot,  they  were  ready  to  camp 
whenever  and  wherever  they  got  the  word.  It  seeming  to  be 
impracticable  to  reach  their  destination  that  night,  a  bivouac 
was  ordered  in  the  streets  on  the  northern  side  of  the  city. 
There  being  near  by  a  public  square  or  park,  in  which,  fortunate 
ly,  Washington  abounds,  this  was  utilized,  along  with  the  pave 
ment,  as  resting-places.  This  day's  work  with  that  of  the  pro- 
ceding  had  begun  to  tell  on  the  men,  and  some,  overcome  by 
heat  and  fatigue,  were  borne  into  a  neighboring  school-house, 
which  thus  became  a  temporary  hospital.  This  edifice,  con 
spicuous  in  our  records,  was  probably  on  the  corner  of  8th  and 
L  streets. 

The  night,  though  long,  had  an  end,  and  morning  found  the 
boys  making  their  toilets  in  a  most  decidedly  public  place,  viz., 
the  street.  Just  one  week  before,  the  regiment  had  left  Auburn, 
and  the  19th  of  September  was  to  be  noteworthy  in  the  annals 
of  the  organization,  for  at  9.30  A.  M.  occurred  the  first  death 
among  these  more  than  1000  men.  Porter  V.  Palmer  of  Com 
pany  I,  who  had  enlisted  in  Auburn,  succumbed  thus  early  to  the 
exactions  and  privations  of  a  soldier's  life.  The  physicians 
said  the  cause  of  his  death  was  congestion  of  the  brain.  He 
was  only  nineteen  years  old,  and  his  life  of  patriotism  was  ended 
almost  before  it  began.  The  sad  tidings  circulated  rapidly,  and 
with  hushed  breath  one  comrade  passed  the  statement  to  the 
next.  Only  two  days  before,  at  Antietam,  more  than  2000 
brave  boys  in  the  Union  army  had  fallen  in  fierce  conflict,  yet 
that  loss  did  not  have  the  effect  upon  these  ranks  that  this 
one  case  from  our  own  number  had.  Death  was  present,  and 
his  grim  figure  struck  terror  into  hearts  that  otherwise  feared 


CAMP   LIFE  AND   ROAD-MAKING.  31 

not.  The  regiment  passed  on,  and  just  one  body  was  left  be 
hind,  later  to  be  sent  north,  there  to  impress  upon  sorrowing 
friends  and  the  public  generally  the  fact  that  war  is  no  play- 
spell.  The  remains  were  buried  from  the  Baptist  Church,  Au 
burn,  September  28th,  in  the  North  street  cemetery,  the  exer 
cises  being  the  most  impressive  of  the  kind  that  Auburn  had,  aa 
yet,  beheld.  The  funeral  procession  was  led  by  the  band  of 
the  famous  Dan  Rice,  whose  circus  was  then  in  the  city. 

Though  death  is  present,  the  living  must  eat.  Yesterday's 
rations  help  along,  and  by  running  the  guard  extras  may  be 
purchased.  Watermelons  at  twenty-five  cents  each  are  tooth 
some,  and  many  are  sampled.  At  11  A.  M.  the  line  of  march 
is  again  formed,  and  at  1  o'clock  camp  is  pitched  at  Bunker 
Hill.  It  does  not  take  long  to  dig  a  well,  and  to  put  up  our 
tents.  All  agree  that  the  water  and  the  place  are  improve 
ments  on  Camp  Chase,  and  in  Camp  Bunker  Hill  our  Wayne 
and  Cayuga  boys  may  be  considered  as  settling  into  genuine 
military  life. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

CAMP  LIFE  AND  ROAD-MAKING. 

The  138th  New  York  found  itself  on  high  ground  with  no 
less  than  six  forts  in  sight,  and  with  several  camps,  similar  to 
its  own,  near  by.  Letters  written  here  were  usually  headed, 
"Camp  Bunker  Hill." 

Though,  as  stated,  wells  were  dug  the  soldiers  soon  learned 
to  like  better  a  neighboring  spring,  whose  waters  were  worth 
making  the  journey  for.  The  first  night  in  their  new  quarters 
was  broken  by  distant  cannonading,  which  the  boys  at  first 
thought  to  be  thunder.  Considerably  startled,  the  slumbers  of 
certain  ones  were  effectually  ended,  and  so  crawling  out,  a  real 
camp-fire,  their  first  one,  was  formed,  around  which  stood  the 
colonel  and  others.  Very  likely  the  sound  came  from  Lee's  re 
treating  forces,  followed  by  the  Union  army  after  Antietam. 
Morning  brings  the  reveille,  and  the  many  calls  incident  to 
camp  life.  Breakfast  is  had  from  bread  and  coffee;  some  have 
to  do  guard  duty.  Naturally,  with  the  battle  of  Antietam  so 
near  and  so  recent,  sentinels  are  nervous,  and  imagination  sup- 


32  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

plies  what  the  situation  lacks.  One  man,  standing  on  the  edge 
of  a  wood,  thinks  that  he  hears  and  sees  something  in  a  neigh 
boring  bush.  Getting  no  response  to  his  challenge,  and  sus 
pecting  the  immediate  proximity  of  ubiquitous  rebels,  he  fires 
his  gun  and  follows  up  the  discharge  with  a  vigorous  thrust 
with  his  bayonet,  whereby  the  latter  implement  of  war  is 
broken  short  off.  Though  the  camp  is  in  commotion  at  once, 
really  nothing  more  serious  followed  than  on  the  part  of  the 
nervous  sentry  a  severe  attack  of  an  illness  supposed  to  be 
incident  to  the  summer  months. 

Sunday,  the  first  in  camp,  brought  a  sermon  from  Chaplain 
Mudge,  and  the  Bible  class  begun  in  Auburn.  It  is  delightful 
to  note  that  one  good  soldier,  who  had  volunteered  to  stand  on 
guard  this  day,  finds  time  and  disposition  to  state  that  while 
the  soil  is  good,  it  is  more  clayey  than  that  in  Wayne  county, 
and  the  prevalence  of  pine  trees  with  chinquapin  and  other 
bushes  is  especially  mentioned.  Monday,  the  22d  of  September, 
begins  a  routine  of  work  on  roads  and  fortifications,  which, 
however  useful  and  necessary,  is  particularly  distasteful  to  the 
members  of  the  regiment.  To  their  minds  the  work  they  were 
doing  was  better  performed  by  laborers  specially  hired  for 
such  purpose,  but  the  obligations  taken  at  enlistment  held  them 
to  complete  obedience  to  orders,  and  they  thereupon  became 
knights  of  pick,  shovel  and  wheelbarrow,  with  only  inci 
dental  recurrence  to  military  drill  supposed  to  be  their  legiti 
mate  province.  The  purpose  of  the  government  to  surround 
Washington  with  a  cordon  of  forts,  and  to  connect  them  with 
excellent  military  roads,  was  a  wise  provision,  whose  utility 
was  apparent  in  1864,  when  a  battalion  of  this  same  regiment 
had  the  privilege  of  defending  the  capital  against  Early  and 
his  men,  but  the  labor  of  preparation  is  not  enjoyed  by  one  of 
these  soldiers,  though  they  are  thereby  exempt  from  the  direct 
danger  of  bullet  and  shell.  The  casual  reading  of  a  soldier's 
diary  kept  then  at  this  late  date,  makes  one  believe  that  the 
writer  thought  of  little  beside  his  stomach.  The  bacon  was 
wormy  and  the  pork  rancid;  the  bread  was  sour,  or  there  was 
not  enough  of  it;  rarely  were  the  rations  and  the  stomach 
just  fitted  to  each  other. 

In  a  letter  home  a  writer  gives  this  graphic  bird's-eye  view 
of  the  forts  about  the  city:  "Having  the  capital  as  a  centre, with 
a  five  miles'  radius,  describe  an  oblong  circle;  then  draw  inner 


CAMP   LIFE  AND   ROAD-MAKING.  33 

arcs  with  radii  considerably  shortened.  On  the  outermost  line 
the  forts  are  one  mile  apart,  on  the  next  inner  three-fourths 
of  a  mile;  while  the  innermost  has  forts  at  intervals  of  one- 
half  mile.  Ranges  of  rifle-pits  and  occasional  batteries  con 
nect  all  the  forts,  which  are  built  to  mount  fourteen:  guns." 
This  was  a  view  in  1862.  Of  course  the  system  was  consider 
ably  modified  in  subsequent  months,  but  the  presentation  is 
quite  clear  and  comprehensive. 

On  the  22d  of  September,  the  president  issued  his  Proclama 
tion  of  Emancipation,  and  the  thinking  character  of  our  sol 
diery  is  evident  in  the  comments  made.  It  is  on  record  that 
one  soldier  (there  may  have  been  others),  Sergeant  James  F. 
Ames  of  the  5th  New  York  Cavalry,  deserted  to  the  enemy, 
and  became  one  of  Moseby's  men,  known  thereafter  as  "Big 
Yankee,"  dying  finally  in  his  boots,  thus  acting  because  of  his 
disgust  that  the  war  was  to  be  one,  as  he  said,  only  for  the 
"nigger."  No  such  sentiments  were  heard  in  the  138th.  On 
the  contrary,  the'se  men  who  had  been  accustomed  to  discuss 
if  not  to  settle  all  national  questions  at  the  village  grocery 
gave  to  the  president's  action  the  most  thorough  approval;  in 
fact  they  thought  it  a  more  direct  means  towards  ending  the 
war  than  their  wheelbarrows.  One  veracious  chronicler  sets 
forth,  in  glowing  terms,  the  serenade  by  the  Marine  Band, 
which  he  heard  at  the  White  House  in  honor  of  the  Proclama 
tion,  and  his  pleasure  at  hearing  and  seeing  the  president. 
There  were  many  representatives  among  these  soldiers  of 
fathers  who  had  long  maintained  stations  on  the  famous  Un 
derground  Railroad. 

As  enlisted  men,  free  Americans  are  called  upon  to  perform 
many  tasks,  seemingly  menial,  hence  our  boys  have  to  swallow 
no  little  rancor  when  they  form  a  part  of  sink-digging  details, 
or  secure  brush  to  make  more  comfortable  some  officer's  quar 
ters.  Of  course  they  do  it,  but  ever  with  the  thought  that  only 
the  oath  compels.  Late  in  the  evening  of  the  24th,  seven 
days'  rations  are  issued,  and  the  boys  think  there  is  a  chance 
to  exchange  their  implements  of  husbandry  for  those  of  war. 
Alas!  it  is  only  a  canard,  and  long  ere  their  rations  are  con 
sumed,  the  possessors  are  warned,  by  the  sense  of  smell,  that 
their  camp  is  not  supplied  with  refrigerators. 

On  the  25th,  through  the  afternoon,  cannon  are  fired,  at  half- 
hour  intervals,  in  memory  of  General  Joseph  K.  F.  Mansfield, 
3 


34  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

killed  at  Antietam.  As  yet  our  boys  have  not  learned  the  best 
way  of  keeping  up  their  camp  cuisine,  and  every  man  is  going 
it  alone  or  with  his  tent-mate.  The  first  record  of  boiled  beans 
is  found  on  the  26th.  The  New  York  soldiers  never  acquired 
the  New  Englander's  facility  in  preparing  this  most  useful 
article  of  food.  The  latter  baked  beans  to  a  turn,  and  to  this 
day  claims  that  not  even  those  at  home  began  to  equal  the  beans 
baked  under  the  coals  in  camp.  We  New  Yorkers  took  ours 
in  soup  or  porridge,  wholly  ignorant  of  the  possibilities  dwell 
ing  in  this  leguminous  object,  produced  so  bountifully  upon 
our  own  farms.  i 

Our  relations  with  the  distinguished  secretary  of  state,  Wil 
liam  H.  Seward,  were  ever  most  friendly.  As  early  as  on  our 
march  to  Camp  Chase,  this  most  courtly  gentleman,,  in  a  car 
riage,  rode  along  our  lines.  On  the  25th  he  came  to  Camp  Bun 
ker  Hill,  accompanied  by  an  English  officer,  possibly  Lord 
Lyons,  then  British  minister  in  Washington,  and  was  extreme 
ly  cordial  in  his  greetings,  even  alluding  to  us  as  his  family 
and  children.  Naturally  his  interest  in  any  regiment  coming 
from  his  own  home  would  be  great,  and  reasonably  it  became 
greater  in  our  case,  since  his  son,  his  namesake,  was  second 
in  command.  As  he  often  visited  us,  there  need  be  little 
wonder  that  the  138th  New  York  early  acquired  the  nickname 
of  "Seward's  Pets." 

Sunday,  the  28th,  was  a  day  of  rest  in  civil  life,  but  it  was 
the  soldier's  cleaning-up  and  odds-and-ends  day,  and  we  were 
settling  down  to  something  of  a  routine.  So  far  as  known, 
this  day  has  the  record  of  the  very  first  blood  shed  in  our 
annals,  not  on  the  battlefield,  but  in  simple,  prosaic  guard 
duty.  William  H.  Bovee  of  Company  K  found  his  gun  loaded, 
and  in  some  way,  by  means  of  this  same  gun,  managed  to  lose 
three  of  his  toes.  While  it  left,  upon  one  foot,  only  two  of  these 
useful  pedal  members,  yet  with  their  aid  he  was  able  to  stub 
around  during  the  remainder  of  his  term  of  service.  Chaplain 
Mudge  preached  in  Company  E  street.  Later  came  the  dress- 
parade  and  Bible  class.  In  the  evening  a  real  old-fashioned  re 
vival  service  was  held,  addressed  by  a  rousing  preacher  from 
Cayuga  county.  Two  captains  of  the  138th  also  proved  their 
former  occupation  by  preaching.  There  were  from  ten  to  fif 
teen  forward  for  prayers.  It  may  not  have  been  at  this  very 
meeting,  but  it  was  at  one  of  the  series  that  John  L.  of  Com- 


CAMP   LIFE  AND   ROAD-MAKING.  35 

pany  F,  a  Dutchman  of  the  most  approved  pattern,  won  im 
perishable  renown,  so  far  as  his  comrades  were  concerned,  in 
a  brief  speech,  which  secured  for  him  complete  exemption  from 
all  religious  participation  thereafter.  It  is  said  that  John  was 
present  by  invitation,  and  in  the  experience  portion  of  the  ex 
ercises,  it  was  very  natural  for  his  captain  to  ask  him  for  some 
expression  of  his  feelings.  To  our  worthy  German,  the  whole 
meeting  had  been  nothing  but  Greek  and  his  notions  of  religion 
were  exceedingly  vague  at  the  best,  but  he  was  not  the  man 
to  refuse  an  invitation  to  speak,  so  removing  a  large  chew  of 
tobacco  from  his  mouth,  he  quite  electrified  his  hearers  with 
his  words,  thereby  certainly  producing  the  sensation  of  the 
evening.  He  spoke  as  follows,  looking  very  stern  and  solemn, 
"Vel,  I  haf  not  mooch  to  speak  mit  you,  but  von  dings  I  visa, 
and  dat  ish  dat  de  repels  all  go  to  hell  right  avay,  and  dat  ve 
all  get  pack  home,  pooty  damn  quick."  No  one  disputed  John's 
sentiments;  possibly  they  had  an  echo  in  the  hearts  of  many 
listeners,  but  somehow  they  seemed  to  lack  the  familiar  relig 
ious  flavor. 

On  the  29th  came  rumors  of  a  change  of  base,  and  everything, 
except  tents,  was  packed  with  the  expectation  of  moving,  it 
was  said,  to  Frederick  City,  in  which  case  we  should  have 
gotten  into  the  rear  of  the  Antietam  campaign,  and  had  we 
followed  the  course  taken  by  the  regiment  which  went  in  our 
place,  we  should  have  been  at  Gettysburg,  at  Chattanooga,  and 
later  with  Sherman  in  his  march  to  the  sea.  But  Colonel  Well 
ing  and  Lieutenant  Colonel  Seward  made  a  trip  to  Washington, 
and  on  their  return  said  that  the  137th  New  York  would  go  in 
our  place.  The  subsequent  career  of  that  organization  is  out 
lined  above.  Prices  current  for  breadstuffs  are  indicated  in  the 
following  entry  for  this  day:  "Traded  bread  for  pie,  eight  loaves 
for  one  small  pie." 

The  camp  continued  restless,  for  the  air  is  full  of  rumors  of 
moves,  and  on  the  last  day  of  the  month  came  orders  that  a 
part  of  the  regiment  should  march  the  next  day  to  Fort  Kear 
ney.  During  our  stay  here  considerable  work  was  done  on  Fort 
Totten,  a  little  to  our  northeast.  Here  also  was  performed  our 
first  picket  duty.  Lieutenant  Freehoff  returned  to  his  company, 
"I,"  one  day  from  headquarters,  and  in  the  street  called  out,  "I 
want  twenty-five  men  to  volunteer.  Who  has  pluck  to  go  with 
me  on  picket?"  The  wait  was  short,  for  in  a  twinkling  the  street 


36  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

was  full  of  men,  all  anxious  to  go.  "By  Shimminy,"  remarked 
the  German  officer,  "you  all  has  pluck,  I  guess;"  and  he  takes 
his  men  from  the  nearest  tents  to  fill  his  detail,  and  reports. 
There  must  be  the  first  experience  in  all  lines  of  life  as  we  go 
through  it,  and  the  solemn  charge  that  an  attack  from  guer 
rillas  was  expected  and  that  consequent  extra  vigilance  was 
necessary,  did  not  tend  to  lessen  the  nervousness  of  these  men 
on  their  first  trial  in  this  line.  All  through  that  long  night 
they  heard  the  veriest  crackling  of  the  dry  underbrush  in  the 
woods,  occasioned  by  mice  or  weasels,,  and  whippoorwills'  cries 
were  sadder  than  ever,  but  nothing  more  serious  than  the 
rounds  of  the  picket  officer  was  encountered.  When,  however, 
they  returned  to  camp  with  their  labor  done,  what  stories 
they  had  to  tell;  vastly  more  thrilling  than  when,  two  years 
later  in  the  valley,  they  really  stood  within  the  rebels'  reach. 


CHAPTER     V. 

CAMP  NELLIE  SEWARD  AND  FORT  KEARNEY. 

Fort  Bunker  Hill,  near  which  the  138th  had  been  camping* 
was  northeast  of  Washington  and  due  west  of  the  old  Bladens- 
burg  road.  It  was  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  and  the  work 
of  the  regiment  on  the  neighboring  roads  was  quite  apparent. 
On  this  the  first  day  of  October,  the  preparations  for  departure 
began  early.  One  company,  at  least,  was  up  at  midnight  to 
draw  rations,  and  the  regiment  was  off  at  7  o'clock  A.  M.  The 
march  was  a  long  one,  considering  burdens  and  inexperience. 
As  the  crow  flies,  the  distance  was  under  ten  miles,  but  follow 
ing  the  roads,  Fort  Kearney,  where  the  final  halt  was  made  at 
about  noon,  was  quite  eleven  miles  away.  The  fort  was  thus 
named  for  General  Philip  Kearney,  a  hero  of  the  Mexican  War, 
who  had  lost  his  life  at  Chantilly,  just  one  month  previously. 

"Camp  Nellie  Seward"  now  becomes  the  appellation  of  the 
138th's  military  home,  thus  commemorating  the  name  of  the 
lieutenant  colonel's  little  daughter.  The  new  location  is  three 
miles  from  the  Potomac,  six  from  Washington,  two  from  George 
town  and  one  and  a  half  miles  from  the  Maryland  line.  Our  prede 
cessors  here  were  New  Jersey  men,  the  llth  Infantry,  ordered 
to  the  field.  Our  morning's  march  was  enlivened  by  heavy  and 


CAMP  NELLIE  SEWARD  AND  FORT  KEARNEY.         37 

rapid  firing,  apparently  not  more  than  five  miles  to  the  west 
ward;  it  might  have  been  much  further  off,  for  sound  is  decep 
tive  and  our  ears  were  inexperienced.  Subsequent  information 
told  us  that  the  trouble  was  at  Shepardstown,  beyond  Harper's 
Ferry,  a  cavalry  and  artillery  scrap,  noisy,  but  not  particularly 
noted. 

Though  we  had  changed  our  stations,  we  had  not  escaped 
the  same  kind  of  work  to  which  we  had  recently  been  intro 
duced,  for,  while  the  majority  of  the  men  labor  on  the  roads, 
certain  ones  do  heavy  work  in  the  fort,  carrying  and  setting 
the  heavy  timbers  which  formed  the  stockade,  sometimes  by 
the  boys  called  pickets.  One  worker  having  observing  eyes 
says  the  fort  has  three  embrasures  and  three  pivot-guns.  Nor 
are  the  soldiers  alone  in  their  duties,  for  from  thirty  to  forty 
contrabands  are  delving  with  them.  How  gladly  would  we 
have  given  the  entire  job  into  the  hands  of  these  disenthralled 
Africans!  Then,  too,  though  very  near  the  base  of  supplies, 
rations  are  scant,  and  lovely  landscapes  can  not  compensate 
for  empty  stomachs.  Farmers'  boys  find  bread  only,  though 
nominally  the  staff  of  life,  somewhat  of  a  broken  reed  for  sup 
port,  considering  the  amount  of  digging  required  of  them.  More 
than  a  thousand  acres  had  been  cleared  of  timber  to  give  a 
clear  sweep  from  the  fort,  and  still  more  must  be  cut.  It 
seemed  not  a  little  strange  that  the  Capital  of  the  United  States 
should  have  been  located  in  such  a  wilderness.  The  fort  is  only 
about  half  built,  and  there  are  ten  miles  of  road  to  be  made. 

The  5th  of  October  is  the  first  Sunday  in  this  camp,  and 
one  racy  raconteur  remarks  the  exceeding  healthfulness  of  the 
day.  Roll-call,  inspection,  dress-parade  and  a  general  washup, 
with  reading  and  such  other  diversions  as  active  minds  suggest, 
fully  occupy  the  time,  while  the  surgeon  and  his  assist 
ants  have  a  vacation.  On  other  days,  however,  when 
picks  and  shovels  are  in  order,  and  at  roll-call,  the  ailing 
are  ordered  to  step  to  the  front,  one  might  think  from  the 
response  that  the  camp  was  located  in  the  very  theatre  of 
miasma;  thus  early  did  these  verdant  youths  learn  what  "old 
soldiering"  meant.  Then  also  these  practical  boys  lament  the 
waste  of  so  much  valuable  timber,  just  for  a  pawn  in  the  wild 
game  of  war,  but  when  was  strife  other  than  expensive,  still 
what  were  material  things,  compared  with  the  woe  which  death 
was  planting  in  so  many  homes? 


38  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

The  regiment  was  not  particularly  proud  of  its  reputation, 
but  it  was  currently  reported  that  no  body  of  men  before  it  had 
made  such  excellent  roads;  indeed  some  ways  pronounced  fin 
ished  had  to  be  made  over  by  these  Empire  State  soldiers, 
some  of  whom,  at  least,  had  taken  their  first  lessons  in  this 
business,  in  working  out  their  poll-taxes  under  the  direction 
of  the  pathmaster.  All,  however,  was  not  praise.  Sometimes 
the  engineers  would  lay  out  the  work,  and  when  completed, 
through  no  fault  of  the  makers,  proclaim  it  all  wrong,  and  it 
must  be  pulled  down  or  up  and  made  over  again.  The  character 
and  ability  of  some  of  these  fort  and  road  builders  may  be  in 
ferred  when  we  find  them  noting  that  the  soil,  in  places,  is 
decomposed  gneiss  rock,  readily  breaking  into  small  chunks, 
with  one  or  more  black  faces,  with  seams  of  quartz  running 
through  them,  but  what  else  could  be  expected  of  men  who 
read  the  Atlantic  Monthly  for  a  respite  and  find  Sunday  after 
noon  diversion  in  botany?  Yet  these  men  were  not  officers; 
just  privates  in  the  ranks. 

October  8th  great  quantities  of  ammunition  are  stored  in  the 
magazines  of  Fort  Kearney.  Discipline  is  gradually  making  it 
self  felt,  and  while  the  men  not  on  duty  repair  to  the  woods, 
October  12th,  for  religious  worship,  one  of  their  number  is  con 
signed  to  the  guard-house  because  he  has  been  heard  threaten 
ing  to  desert.  Thereafter  when  a  dissatisfied  soldier  wished  to 
take  French  leave,  he  wasted  no  time  talking  about  it.  On  this 
day  the  companies  hear  read,  for  the  first  time,  the  Articles  of 
War,  though  for  some  weeks  they  had  been  thinking  them 
selves  able  to  recognize  sundry  articles  of  this  sort  on  sight. 

Tuesday,  October  14th,  camp  and  work  monotony  is  broken, 
as  the  men  go  in  for  their  supper  of  bread  and  fried  beef,  by  a 
command  to  fall  in  and  to  report  the  number  of  cartridges  in 
each  one's  possession;  supper  is  eaten  hurriedly,  and  then,  once 
more  in  line,  forty  rounds  per  man  are  given  out.  All  this  be 
cause  rebel  cavalry  are  said  to  be  within  ten  miles  of  the  fort. 
This  was  one  of  the  annual  horse-collecting  raids  of  General 
J.  E.  B.  Stuart,  though  his  forces  on  their  way  down  from 
Chambersburg  had  already  crossed  the  Potomac  on  the  12th. 
Evidently  our  people  thought  such  a  leader  liable  to  appear  at 
any  moment  anywhere,  and  they  had  better  have  a  care.  Tn 
reality,  at  this  particular  moment,  he  with  his  men  and  horses, 
after  taking  needed  rest  in  Leesburg,  were  by  easy  stages  work- 


CAMP  NELLIE  SEWARD  AND  FORT  KEARNEY.         39 

ing  westward  of  the  mountains.  Company  D  is  sent  to  the  fort 
and  four  companies  are  sent  out  upon  the  picket  line  and  the 
others  are  ordered  to  lie  upon  their  arms.  The  camp  is  razed, 
though  no  one  can  tell  just  why.  To-day  such  proceedings  have 
a  farcical  appearance,  though  they  may  not  have  been  without 
their  benefits  even  then,  since  the  preparation  came  in  the  way 
of  drill  and  discipline. 

As  no  enemy  appeared,  the  weapons  of  war  again  gave  place 
to  the  implements  of  peace,  and  digging  proceeded  as  before, 
not  infrequently  enlivened  by  words  like  these,  sung  to  the 
tune  of  Dixie: 

;'I  wish  I  was  in  old  Wayne  county, 
My  three  years  up,  and  I  had  my  bounty, 
Look  away,  look  away,"  etc. 

After  the  scare,  the  guns  were  discharged  into  a  neighboring 
sandbank.  Evidently  marksmanship  wras  poor,  for  a  dog,  just 
in  line,  had  the  full  benefit  of  the  fusilade,  but  was  unhurt. 
Perhaps  the  boys  only  made  believe  aim  at  him.  Let  us  hope 
so,  both  for  the  sake  of  their  aim  and  of  their  hearts. 

Camp  fare  is  improving,  as  this  menu  will  amply  prove: 
Breakfast — roast  beef,  bread,  coffee  and  apple  sauce;  dinner — 
beef,  bread  and  tea;  while  supper  was  made  from  bread  and 
tea.  On  the  17th  the  arrival  at  4  P.  M.  of  the  17th  Connecticut* 
gave  a  suspicion  of  a  move  to  be  made  soon,  and  it  came  the 
very  next  day,  Saturday,  the  18th,  when  a  complete  transfer 
of  outfit  was  made  to  the  vicinity  of  Fort  Mansfield.  The 
march  was  through  Tennallytown,  about  one  mile,  and  we 
halted  a  mile  and  a  half  from  Chain  Bridge.  The  location  is 
better  than  that  just  left.  The  line  between  the  District  and 
Maryland  runs  through  our  camp,  which  is  called  "Morris," 


*The  17th  Connecticut  was  from  Fairneld  county,  and  had  as  colonel 
Wm.  H.  Noble,  but  a  more  noted  man  was  in  the  ranks,  viz.,  Elias  Howe, 
Jr.,  of  sewing-machine  fame.  Having  done  garrison  duty  for  some 
time  in  Baltimore,  the  regiment  had  asked  permission  to  join  Sigel's 
corps.  As  a  punishment  for  such  temerity,  it  was  ordered  to  Fort 
Kearney,  where  for  two  weeks  it  handled  pick  and  shovel  before 
reaching  the  llth  Corps.  It  was  only  a  few  weeks  later  that  Private 
Howe  advanced  the  money  to  pay  off  the  regiment,  a  most  convenient 
man,  we  thought,  to  have  around.  Those  competent  to  judge  declared 
that  Colonel  Noble  resembled  the  pictures  of  the  lately  slain  General 
Nathaniel  Lyon,  another  Connecticut  man. 


40  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

and  some  of  us  halt  in  a  potato  field.  The  popular  and  neces 
sary  vegetable  is  dug  with  bayonets,  and  if  any  man  in  the 
regiment  fails  to  have  "spuds"  for  supper,  it  is  his  own  fault. 
Men  get  used  to  almost  every  thing,  and  a  six-mule  load  of  bread, 
piled  upon  the  ground,  is  none  the  less  sought  for,  though  a 
mule  hitched  near  has,  with  his  tail,  kept  the  flies  from  the 
bread  for  several  hours.  Our  nearest  neighbors  are  men  of  the 
29th  New  Jersey,  who  have  done  a  deal  of  work  on  Forts  Mans 
field  and  Reno. 

Had  Washington  people  known  what  our  soldiers  were  doing 
with  their  reservoir,  their  relish  for  its  contents  would  have 
been  much  lessened.  uDirty,  not  fit  to  swim  in,"  is  the  general 
comment,  and  its  waters  are  made  still  more  turbid  by  the 
soldiers,  who  use  it  as  one  big  wash-tub  for  their  clothing.  Oh 
Cleanliness!  what  crimes  are  committed  in  thy  name,  and  on 
Sunday,  too!  At  dress-parade  on  this  19th  of  October,  the  sec 
retary  of  state,  William  H.  Seward,  appears,  but  perhaps  the 
presence  of  Colonel  Welling's  wife  and  daughter  gives  even 
more  pleasure  than  that  of  the  eminent  gentleman,  for  the 
soldiers  love  to  hear  the  sound  of  women's  voices,  thus  being 
reminded  of  home.  For  the  proper  shelter  of  himself  and  fam 
ily,  the  colonel  has  had  built  a  small  house,  not  elegant,  but 
sufficient. 

There  is  very  little  variation  in  routine  for  the  following 
week.  The  Potomac  and  the  Ohio  and  Chesapeake  canal  afford 
ample  facilities  for  bathing  and  washing,  which  many  improve. 
Chain  Bridge  comes  in  for  inspection  as  well  as  the  potato 
fields  of  the  neighboring  farmers.  The  latter  complain  and  en 
deavor  to  identify  the  culprits,  but  fail  utterly.  Careful  and 
loving  friends  at  home  send  to  their  Ontario  boys  a  barrel  of 
dried  fruit,  on  which  the  expressage  is  $5.25.  Just  what  the 
fruit  was  worth  is  not  recorded.  There  is  no  lack  of  work,  for 
old  roads  are  made  over  and  new  ones  are  laid  out.  Drill  is  not 
neglected  and  inspections  come  regularly. 

November  1st  Captain  Cornwell  of  Company  E  died  of 
typhoid  fever  after  an  illness  of  ten  days.  His  death  was  a 
great  loss  in  every  way,  for  he  merited  and  received  the  highest 
respect  of  every  one.  His  body  was  embalmed  and  sent  home 
to  Cayuga  county,  where  from  the  Scipio  Universalist  Church, 
November  9th,  all  that  was  mortal  was  borne  to  its  burial. 
His  was  the  first  death  among  our  officers. 


CAMP  NELLIE  SEWARD  AND  PORT  KEARNEY.         41 

Sunday,  November  2d,  at  dress-parade,  Secretary  Seward 
and  President  Lincoln  are  present.  Already  hints  are  made 
that  the  138th  is  a  pet  regiment.  One  of  the  boys  thus  describes 
the  visit:  "Just  as  the  regiment,  in  fine  condition,  was  drawn 
up  in  line,  an  open  barouche  was  discovered  in  front  on  the 
right,  in  which  were  seated  two  distinguished  looking  men. 
Every  eye  observed  them,  though  the  command  was,  'Front.' 
Shortly  after  Colonel  Welling  had  taken  his  place,  one  of  these 
men  left  the  carriage  and  moved  slowly  to  a  position  a  little 
back  of  the  colonel.  By  this  time  every  man  knew  he  was  in 
the  presence  of  Abraham  Lincoln.  The  secretary  remained  in 
the  vehicle.  How  proud  we  all  felt!  The  sublime  and  the 
ridiculous  are  often  mingled,  and  this  event  was  an  illustration. 
In  passing  the  president,  one  of  the  officers,  noted  more  for  his 
stature  than  for  his  gracefulness,  after  sundry  reproofs  to  his 
men  for  not  keeping  in  step,  apparently  formed  the  resolution 
to  measure  heights  with  Mr.  Lincoln  as  he  passed.  So  at  the 
proper  moment  he  straightened  up  to  all  the  height  that  God 
had  given  him,  and  evidently  wished  his  men  to  make  note. 
They  did,  for  they  heard  the  president  say,  distinctly,  'Lieu 
tenant,  I  am  taller  than  you.'  The  tall  officer's  collapse  was 
never  forgotten.  Later  many  favored  ones  grasped  the  presi 
dent's  hand." 

During  this  day  there  is  the  roar  of  heavy  firing  in  the  west, 
and  six  weeks  ago  it  would  have  made  every  ear  erect,  but  ours 
are  becoming  more  experienced.  The  2d  Corps  had  discovered 
some  rebels  at  or  near  Snicker's  Gap,  and  the  batteries  were 
exchanging  compliments.  November  4th  is  election  day,  and 
an  expression  of  political  opinion  is  taken  by  the  men. 
Throughout  the  regiment  the  sentiment  is  largely  Re 
publican.  In  Company  D  fifty-five  men  favor  General 
James  S.  Wadsworth  for  governor  and  fifteen  prefer  Horatio 
Seymour;  very  likely  the  remaining  men  were  not  voters,  or 
did  not  care  to  express  themselves. 

It  was  in  these  rather  quiet  days  that  Captain  -  -  was 
officer  of  the  day.  It  is  said  that  the  severe  weather  had 
prompted  him  to  take  rather  more  fire-water  than  was  really 
good  for  his  understanding.  Indeed,  he  had  not  gone  far  on 
his  round  of  nightly  duty  when,  approaching  what  he  supposed 
to  be  a  sentry's  post,  and  seeing  some  dark  object  near  at  hand, 
he  halted  for  the  challenge.  In  a  chiding  tone,  he  reproved  the 


42  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

supposed  sentinel  for  his  lack  of  military  precision  and  once 
more  said,  "Why  don't  you  challenge  the  grand  rounds?"  By 
this  time  the  officer  had  approached  several  paces  nearer,  and 
had  entered  upon  his  query  for  the  third  time  when  he  sudden 
ly  found  himself  measuring  his  length  upon  the  ground.  Tt 
seems  that  he  had  gotten  off  the  regular  track,  and,  nearing  the 
stock  corral,  had  been  addressing  his  remarks  to  a  mule  whose 
heels,  in  due  time,  had  effectually  halted  him.  The  words  the 
captain  uttered  did  not  include  the  countersign. 

On  the  8th  the  camp  was  honored  by  a  visit  from  Secretaries 
Seward  and  Stanton  with  Lord  Lyons,  British  minister.  We 
thus  had  frequent  opportunity  to  see  some  of  the  most  famous 
men  of  the  day.  Two  companies,  C  and  K,  were  ordered  to 
Fort  Gains,  on  the  llth,  which  disturbed  them  not  a  little,  for 
they  had  just  finished  their  quarters,  backing  poles,  to  make 
the  same  fully  half  a  mile.  Owners  of  land  object  to  road- 
making  and  ditch-digging — but  everything  goes.  When  candle 
rations  run  short,  the  colonel's  quarters  catch  fire,  perhaps  for 
a  hint  that  light  was  needed.  Some  one  calls  this  existence  a 
"dog's  life."  He  wanted  excitement.  Passes  were  occasionally 
obtained  for  a  day  in  Washington.  How  the  day  was  spent 
there  depended  entirely  on  the  taste  of  the  visitor.  Many 
sought  the  Capitol,  Patent  and  Post  Offices,  the  W^hite  House, 
and  the  like.  If  the  scenes  sought  were  questionable,  no  record 
was  made  of  them. 

Monotony  reigns  in  camp  life  and  police  duty  during  the 
month  of  November,  though  on  the  23d  a  Stonewall  Jackson 
scare,  incident  to  his  moving  from  Winchester,  or  to  a  recon- 
noissance  by  Stuart,  leads  to  the  handling  of  considerable  am 
munition  and  to  some  haste  in  mounting  guns  in  the  forts. 
Indications  became  more  and  more  pronounced  that  the  regi 
ment  was  to  stay  in  the  defenses,  for  before  the  end  of  the 
month,  the  officers  were  studying  artillery  drill,  and  some  work 
had  been  done  on  the  guns  in  Fort  Kearney  by  the  companies 
stationed  there.  The  27th  was  the  first  Thanksgiving  in  camp, 
and  was  conspicuous  for  the  absence  of  the  orthodox  turkey 
and  other  dainties  which  made  the  home  board  so  attractive. 
One  soldier  records  his  dinner  as  composed  of  bread  and  butter, 
cheese  and  apple-sauce.  Though  not  up  to  the  traditional 
standard,  he  might  have  fared  much  worse.  The  same  man 
laments  the  cost  of  his  Atlantic  Monthly,  twenty-five  cents  for 


CAMP  NELLIE  SEWARD  AND  FORT  KEARNEY.         43 

the  magazine  and  twenty-five  more  for  the  messenger;  it  does 
seem  as  though  the  tariff  were  a  trifle  high. 

It  was  in  this  camp  that  a  sudden  night  alarm  summoned 
the  men  into  line,  to  which  they  hastened  in  all  degrees  of 
sleepiness  and  fright.  One  of  the  captains, however, lest  someone 
might  oversleep,  went  through  his  street  and  inspected  every 
tent.  As  he  poked  open  one  flap  he  found  a  youngster,  scared 
almost  to  distraction.  His  reply  to  the  captain's  reproof  for  his 
delinquency  was,  aOh,  captain,  don't  make  me  go  out  there  and 
be  killed!"  The  officer's  considerateness  in  allowing  him  to 
remain  where  he  was,  was  amply  justified  in  subsequent 
dangers,  when  he  proved  himself  brave  enough.  It  was  only  a 
stage  fright,  liable  to  attack  any  one  sooner  or  later. 

Sometimes  the  fun  of  soldiers  came  near  being  what  has  been 
characterized  as  horse-play.  It  was  in  Company  F,  one  chilly 
evening  in  October.  A  few  men  were  smoking  and  yarning 
around  the  pit,  over  which  cooking  had  been  done  all  day,  and 
which  was  now  well  filled  with  red-hot  embers.  While  they 
were  thus  standing,  one  of  the  company  came  up  to  the  other 
side  of  the  trench,  a  man  good-natured  when  sober,  but  ex 
ceedingly  surly  when  in  liquor.  Tall  and  robust,  he  was  able 
to  carry  out  any  threat  he  might  make.  Soon  came  also  a 
comrade  of  quite  a  different  build,  always  good  natured  and 
genial ;  he  essayed  a  little  fun  at  the  expense  of  the  tall  soldier, 
which  the  latter  was  in  no  mood  to  relish.  Finally,  turning  upon 
the  joker,  he  exclaimed,  "If  you  don't  behave  I'll  take  you  by 
the  seat  of  your  trousers  and  the  nape  of  your  neck  and  throw 
you  into  the  fire."  Unfortunately  the  short  soldier  did  not 
take  the  hint,  but  persisted  in  his  nonsense,  saying,  "You  can't 
do  it."  Whereupon  the  giant  actually  seized  the  comrade,  as 
threatened,  and  holding  him  over  the  pit,  as  though  he  were 
only  a  child,  let  him  drop  upon  the  fiery  mass.  All  this  hap 
pened  before  any  one  could  interfere,  but  as  the  victim  fell  upon 
his  back  he  squirmed  out  upon  the  ground  unhurt,  though  bad 
ly  frightened.  The  irate  Hercules  moved  off,  laughing  devil 
ishly,  and  as  no  one  was  hurt,  those  looking  on  could  and  did 
laugh  at  Conny's  expense. 


44  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

CHAPTER    VI. 

CAMP  MORRIS  AND  THE  OTH  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

The  stopping-place  after  leaving  Fort  Kearney  had  taken  a 
new  name,  viz.,  Camp  Morris,  after  Colonel  Lewis  O.  Morris* 
of  the  113th  New  York,  later  to  be  dubbed  the  7th  Heavy  Ar 
tillery,  and  whose  brave  colonel  was  to  fall,  June  4th,  1864,  at 
Cold  Harbor.  At  this  time  he  commanded  the  Military  Con 
struction  Corps  in  the  defenses.  As  fort-building  was  so  promi 
nent  a  part  of  the  regiment's  work,  the  following  description, 
sent  home  by  a  participant,  is  not  amiss :  "The  forts  are  simply 
earthworks  enclosing  from  one  to  two  acres  of  land.  They  are 
made  by  digging  a  ditch  or  moat,  fifteen  feet  wide  by  from  ten 
to  twelve  feet  deep,  throwing  the  earth  up  to  form  an  embank 
ment  inside  the  ditch.  This  bank  is  made  hard  by  pounding  it 
as  it  is  thrown  up;  through  embrasures,  guns  are  run  out;  on 
the  outside  are  abatis  which  hinder  the  approach  of  man  or 
horse;  within  are  magazines  and  bombproof  s,  also  barracks  to 
be  used  in  case  of  an  attack;  it  requires  three  reliefs  to  work  the 
heavy  guns;  all  the  forts  are  connected  by  rifle-pits;  entrance- 
gates  are  on  the  side  towards  Washington;  the  heavy  stockades 
surrounding  are  pierced  by  loop-holes. 

The  approach  of  winter  rendered  it  necessary  to  make  in 
creased  preparations  for  the  sake  of  health  and  comfort.  The 
laying  out  of  quarters  became  a  necessity,  and  house-building 
was  the  general  vocation;  the  term  house,  however,  was  less 
heard  than  "hut,"  "shanty,"  "tent"  or  "winter-quarters."  Their 
desirableness  as  habitations  depended  largely  on  the  taste,  in 
genuity  and  industry  of  the  builders.  They  were  party  affairs, 


*  Colonel  Morris  belonged  to  one  of  New  York's  most  noted  fam 
ilies.  His  father,  Lewis  N.,  a  graduate  of  West  Point,  was  killed  at 
Monterey  in  1846,  bravely  leading  his  men,  a  brevet  major,  U.  S.  A. 
The  colonel's  grandfather,  Staats,  was  a  brother  of  Lewis  Morris,  a 
signer  of  the  Declaration,  and  himself  an  officer  on  the  staff  of  Gen 
eral  Anthony  Wayne.  Colonel  L.  O.  Morris  had  been  in  the  army  since 
1847,  saw  service  in  the  Mexican  war,  and  at  the  beginning  of  the  Re 
bellion  was  in  Texas  a  captain  in  the  1st  Artillery.  His  battery  was 
the  only  one  not  surrendered  to  the  Confederates.  The  prosaic  life  in 
the  defenses  greatly  chafed  him,  and  the  chance  to  lead  his  regiment 
to  the  front  under  Grant's  regime  was  eagerly  seized,  though  it  speed 
ily  led  to  his  death. 


CAMP  MORRIS  AND   THE  NINTH   HEAVY  ARTILLERY.  45 

the  number  combining  determining  the  size  of  the  structure. 
A  building  9x16  feet  was  large  enough  for  six  men,  and  one 
12x16  could  hold  twice  that  number.  Luckily  not  all  the  trees 
had  been  cut  awray,  and  sufficient  were  found  to  supply  both 
fuel  and  building  material.  The  impromptu  structures  are 
much  smaller,  being,  externally,  7x8  feet.  The  lower  part  to 
the  height  of  2J  feet  is  built  of  small  logs,  thus  lessening  the 
inside  measurement  nearly  one  foot  all  around.  A  home  letter 
by  a  Company  B  boy,  dated  December  21st,  gives  an  excellent 
picture  of  what  the  writer  deemed  essential  to  his  comfort  in 
his  A  tent  having  the  above-described  kind  of  a  base : 

"  We  enter  at  one  end ;  on  the  left  side,  as  we  come  in,  is  our 
fire-place  in  the  corner;  beyond  is  a  small  table,  at  which  I  am 
now  writing.  Across  the  back  end  is  a  little  shelf  2-J  feet  from 
Che  ground.  On  this  shelf  are  three  cupboards  and  other 
things;  twTo  of  the  cupboards  are  used  for  our  dishes  and  culi 
nary  outfit ;  the  third  is  for  my  own  private  library.  In  the  lower 
space  of  the  latter  are  three  compartments,  one  for  envelopes, 
one  for  answered  and  the  other  for  unanswered  letters.  Above 
this  comes  the  library  itself,  made  up  of  general  reading,  such 
as  newspapers,  magazines,  etc.,  etc.;  books,  classical,  scientific, 
poetic,  critical,  and  religious,  as  a  Bible,  hymn  and  prayer  book. 
The  top  shelf  is  expressly  for  stationery.  Between  the  second 
and  third  cupboards  stands  the  tent-pole,  and  on  each  side  of 
this  are  our  guns,  the  muzzles  going  through  a  short  shelf 
near  the  top  of  the  tent.  On  the  right  side  as  we  enter  are 
bedding,  straw,  etc.  On  the  lowermost  shelf  is  the  water-pail 
and  above  it  the  dried  fruits.  Our  sabre-belts,  cartridge-boxes, 
canteens,  haversacks,  pistols,  etc.,  hang  on  the  tent-pole.  Be 
sides,  we  have  three  knapsacks,  four  overcoats,  a  box  for  dirty 
shirts,  extra  boots  and  shoes,  wash  and  slop  dishes,  towels, 
dish-cloths,  frying-pan,  griddle  and  extra  pail,  place  for  twenty- 
four  hours'  supply  of  fuel,  a  box  of  hickory  nuts,  a  catch-all 
bag,  a  box  of  chips,  one  drum,  twenty-five  feet  of  lumber,  kept 
inside  for  subsequent  shanty;  axe,  hammer,  punches,  seats  for 
seven  or  eight  men,  a  quantity  of  soap-stone  and  laurel-root, 
which  we  whittle  into  curious  things;  a  bread-toaster,  a  pound 
or  two  of  nails,  some  old  strap  hinges,  an  old  saw,  a  fire- 
poker,  etc."  Evidently  this  young  man  had  been  used  to  comfort 
at  home,  for  many  a  city  tenement  has  less  articles  for  daily 
use  than  he  enumerates.  In  the  same  letter,  he  says  he  makes 


46 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


mittens  by  cutting  holes  in  the  heels  of  a  pair  of  socks  and 
sewing  on,  for  thumbs,  the  eliminated  toes  thereof. 

One  officer,  for  his  wife's  delectation,  sends  home  this  dia 
gram  of  his  first  and  only  floor: 


Bed. 


o     Stove. 


Of  course  there  are  the  regular  rounds  of  drill,  guard-duty 
and  fatigue,  and  the  general  health  of  the  regiment  is  good. 
Rations  are  helped  out  by  home  contributions,  for  the  loved 
ones  there  are  not  forgetful.  One  soldier  is  made  happy  by  an 
apple  (doubtless  there  were  others),  on  which  he  finds  the  magic 
word,  " Julia;"  another  dilates  on  the  taste  of  a  can  of  peaches, 
while  others  are  grateful  for  boxes  of  dried  fruit,  sausage, 
mince-pie,  and  such  dainties  as  only  wives  and  mothers  can  pre 
pare.  Amusements  are  had  in  the  making  of  briar-wood  pipes, 
not  always  for  the  use  of  the  maker,  for  all  did  not  smoke,  not 
by  any  means.  The  playing  of  whist  and  poker  was  well-nigh 
universal,  though  some  more  thoughtful  preferred  chess  and 
checkers.  Then  many  read  a  deal  and  of  the  best,  as  is  evident 
in  the  list  of  books  afforded  by  one  tent,  Hugh  Miller's  "Foot 
steps  of  the  Creator,''  "Mountains  of  the  Bible,"  "Pollock's 
Course  of  Time/'  and  other  solid  volumes,  though  it  would  be 
unfair  to  imply  that  any  considerable  part  of  the  regiment 
reached  this  exalted  pitch  of  literary  taste. 

Possibly  the  most  important  event  of  this  month  was  the 
actual  transferal  of  the  138th  New  York  Infantry  to  the  9th 
Heavy  Artillery.  The  order  of  conversion  was  dated  Decem 
ber  9th,  and  the  designated  numeral  came  on  the  19th.  With 
such  recurrence  of  the  ultimate  significant  figure,  the  regiment 
could  hardly  become  other  than  the  9th.  The  first  official  pro 
mulgation  of  the  order  came  at  dress-parade,  December  21st. 


CAMP  MORRIS  AND   THE  NINTH   HEAVY  ARTILLERY.  47 

Changes  in  military  colors  speedily  followed,  blue  giving  place 
to  red  in  chevrons,  stripes  and  shoulder-straps,  but  the  new 
artillery  coats  did  not  come  till  December  30th.  This  becoming 
an  artillery  regiment  had  been  so  thoroughly  forestalled  that 
it  occasioned  very  little  remark.  On  the  same  date  the  113th 
and  the  129th  New  York  Infantry  became  the  7th  and  the  8th 
Heavy  Artillery,  respectively.  At  this  time  the  several  com 
panies  were  stationed  as  follows:  at  Fort  Gains,  C  and  K;  at 
Mansfield,  B,  G,  E  and  H;  at  Reno,  I,  D,  F  and  A;  Colonel 
Welling  was  near  Reno,  Seward  at  Mansfield  and  Major  Taft 
at  Gains. 

The  condition  of  the  weather  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact 
that  the  ground  was  frozen  some  of  the  time  to  the  depth  of 
six  inches,  and  that  snow  four  inches  deep  did  not  occasion 
surprise;  at  the  same  time,  thousands  of  men  washed  garments 
in  a  stream  not  a  stone's  throw  from  the  reservoir.  For  a 
variety  in  camp-life,  the  sergeant  of  the  guard  picks  up  a  pri 
vate's  gun  in  the  guard  quarters  and  playfully  shoots  away 
two  or  three  of  said  private's  fingers.  Of  course  he  didn't 
know  that  the  gun  was  loaded.  This  type  of  ignorance  is  of  a 
very  ancient  lineage.  A  letter,  dated  this  month  by  a  Company 
E  man  to  his  wife,  says,  "Every  Sunday  morning  there  is  com 
pany  inspection  of  arms,  knapsacks,  clothing,  etc.  The  last  day 
of  every  month  comes  general  inspection,  and  every  second 
month  a  muster  for  pay,  as  December,  February,  etc.  Our  guns 
weigh  16  Ibs.;  balls,  1J  oz.;  cartridges,  2  oz.  The  fort  guns 
are  mostly  40-pound  Parrotts,  some  heavy  howitzers  and  occa 
sionally  a  100-pound  cannon;  lots  of  heavy  practice." 

If  the  boys  fared  slimly  at  Thanksgiving,  experience  taught 
them  to  make  ready  for  Christmas.  They  couldn't  hang  up 
their  stockings,  for  they  had  no  faith  in  Santa  Claus  on  the 
Potomac.  The  saint  would  never  trust  himself  and  steeds  on 
such  roofs  as  they  possessed.  To  the  natives  the  day  it 
self  was  much  more  like  a  4th  of  July  celebration  than 
the  observance  of  the  Savior's  birth,  but  it  must  not  be  sup 
posed  that  these  soldier  boys  were  disposed  to  give  the  day  a 
particularly  religious  tone;  they  were  determined,  however,  on 
having  just  as  good  a  dinner  as  the  circumstances  would  allow. 
On  the  24th  one  man  records  paying  a  dollar  for  a  gallon  of 
oysters  in  Washington  for  his  own  dinner  and  buying  a  chicken 
and  celery  for  his  captain's.  Young  men  who  could  make  buck- 


48  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

wheat  cakes  in  camp  and  serve  them  with  maple  syrup  were 
equal  to  getting  up  a  Christmas  dinner.  Fifteen  men  in  Com 
pany  K  forgot  dull  care  as  they  discussed  the  following  bill 
of  fare  at  8  o'clock  P.  M.:  "Cold  roast  pork,  cold  roast  duck, 
bread  and  butter,  pickles,  cheese,  preserves,  apples,  pies  (the 
writer  modestly  observes  that  they  were  the  first  he  ever  made), 
and  four  kinds  of  cake."  After  encompassing  such  a  layout 
the  soldiers  ought  to  have  been  in  condition  to  enjoy  the  stories 
that  followed.  Twenty  good  men  of  Company  —  ran  the  guard 
just  for  a  supper  in  a  neighboring  house.  Unluckily  sixteen  of 
them  were  caught  and  had  to  spend  the  remainder  of  their 
Xmas  in  the  guard-house, —  an  excellent  opportunity  to  moral 
ize  on  the  mutability  of  things  sublunary  and  on  the  exceeding 
nearness  of  sadness  to  pleasure.*  It  should  be  said  that  the 
day,  though  a  world-wide  holiday,  did  not  excuse  the  men 
from  three  hours'  company  drill. 

On  the  last  Sunday  of  the  year,  the  28th,  Secretary  Seward 
visited  camp  and  the  chaplain  preached.  Somehow  or  other  he 
does  not  seem  to  fit  the  feelings  of  all  the  boys,  some  of  whom 
remark  that  he  is  more  interested  in  rabbit  and  quail  hunting 
than  in  the  performance  of  his  ministerial  functions;  but  when 
was  there  a  time  that  the  fault-finder  was  not  in  evidence? 
The  great  majority  of  our  soldiers  in  camp  had  very  little  ap 
preciation  for  that  which  became  especially  dear  when  death, 
in  the  active  campaign,  stared  them  in  the  face.  By  the  end  of 
the  month  officers  and  men  were  fairly  well  fixed  for  the  new 
year,  though  they  had  not  gotten  into  barracks. 

Being  thus  happily  placed,  it  was  not  strange  that  certain 
officers  should  send  for  their  respective  helpmeets,  and  before 
the  end  of  December  the  camp  was  gladdened  with  the  presence, 
among  others,  of  Mrs.  Lieutenant  Colonel  Seward,  Mrs.  Major 
Taft,  Mrs.  Captain  Lyon,  Mrs.  Quartermaster  Knowles, 
and  Mrs.  Lieutenant  Wood.  Mrs.  Colonel  Welling  and  daugh 
ter  have  been  mentioned  already. 


*Two  years  later  a  favorite  bit  of  doggerel,  sung  to  an  unwritten 
tune,  ran  thus: 

"Oh,  it's  young  men  skedaddlers,  I'd  have  you  all  beware, 
Leave  off  your  bounty-jumping  and  go  live  upon  the  square, 
For  provost  guards  are  plenty  and  governor's  isle  is  nigh, 
They'll  leave  you  there  in  solitude  to  pine  away  and  die." 


CAMP  MORRIS  AND   THE  NINTH   HEAVY  ARTILLERY.  49 

1863. 

January  comes  in  on  Thursday,  and  is  indicated  by  a  cessa 
tion  of  drill,  a  New  York  custom  of  setting  more  store  by  the 
first  day  of  the  year  than  by  Christmas,  though  the  Knicker 
bocker  habit  of  calling  is  not  appreciably  observed.  The  per 
manent  barracks  that  had  been  building  for  some  time  were 
occupied  as  early  as  the  18th  of  the  month,  though  some  com 
panies  had  entered  much  earlier,  as  A  on  the  llth ;  B,  the  13th 
and  14th;  D,  the  16th,  and  G,  the  18th.  Many  of  the  boys  prefer 
their  old  tents,  complaining  of  leaky  roofs  and  lack  of  light, 
for  there  was  no  lavish  display  of  windows.  Meanwhile  dur 
ing  the  month  more  work  was  done  on  Forts  Mansfield,  Keno 
and  Gains,  at  which  latter  place  was  the  regimental  hospital, 
where,  on  the  26th,  died  Jonathan  Baldwin  of  Company  C,  from 
Cato,  having  taken  an  overdose  of  opium.  Many  men  are 
inducted  into  the  nicety  of  artillery  drill,  though  that  of  in 
fantry  is  not  neglected,  there  being  five  hours  a  day  of  the 
latter.  On  the  8th  Messrs.  Moore  and  McCall  of  Lyons  buy  out 
Sutler  Davidson.  The  wife  of  Lieutenant  Flynn  comes  to  the 
camp  on  the  10th,  and  on  the  15th  Mrs.  Captain  Gregory  and 
boy.  Fort  Mansfield  barracks  were  occupied  by  the  1st  Bat 
talion,  comprising  Companies  B,  D,  E  and  G,  under  Lieutenant 
Colonel  Seward.  On  the  23d  Captain  Crane  of  Company  H 
takes  twenty  men,  and  goes  out  to  find  the  secret  of  certain 
lights  which  at  night  have  alarmed  the  guards.  He  finds,  not 
will-o'-the-wisps,  but  necessary  illuminations  for  negro  wood- 
choppers  three-fourths  of  a  mile  away;  in  such  prosaic  manner 
do  all  the  Ninth's  troubles  terminate. 

As  the  regiment  had  been  converted  into  a  heavy  artillery 
body,  it  must  be  recruited  to  the  latter's  standard,  and  Lieu 
tenant  Bacon  of  Company  D  opened  an  office  in  Lyons  on  the 
23d,  and  Lieutenant  A.  S.  Wood  of  the  same  company  is  made 
adjutant,  vice  W.  R.  Wasson,  promoted  major,  since  the  new 
organization  allowed  three  majors  among  the  field  officers  and 
four  lieutenants  in  each  company;  also  there  were  to  be  twelve 
companies  instead  of  ten,  as  in  the  infantry.  Captain  James  W. 
Snyder  of  Company  A  was  the  first  major  under  this  change, 
though  his  commission  and  that  of  Major  Wasson  were  both 
dated  Dec.  31,  1862.  Next  to  the  last  day  of  January  witnesses 
a  brigade  review  conducted  by  Colonel  L.  O.  Morris,  in  which 
4 


50  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

was  displayed  the  proficiency  acquired  by  months  of  honest 
drill,  and  which  months  later  was  to  bear  rich  fruit  when  these 
same  regiments  of  heavy  artillery  were  to  leave  the  forts  of  their 
making  and  were  to  follow  General  Grant  into  the  tangled 
undergrowth  of  the  Wilderness  and  up  to  the  breastworks  of 
Cold  Harbor. 


CHAPTER     VII. 

LIFE  IN  THE  FORTS. 

The  most  important  regimental  event  of  the  month  of  Feb 
ruary  was  the  accession  of  Company  M.  It  had  been  raised 
in  Genesee  county  as  the  22d  Independent  Battery,  and  had 
been  mustered  into  the  service  of  the  United  States  Oct.  28th, 
1862.  The  order  for  this  union  was  dated  February  5th,  but 
the  company  did  not  appear  in  regimental  line  till  the  very 
last  day  of  the  month. 

The  regiment  is  getting  pretty  well  used  to  routine  duty,  and 
of  work  there  is  no  lack.  Forts,  roads,  huts,  barracks,  there 
is  ample  employment  for  every  one,  and  no  end  of  drill  besides. 
The  news  of  the  day  comes  from  Washington  in  the  shape  of 
the  Chronicle.,  Colonel  John  W.  Forney's  paper,  whose  pages 
few  soldiers  of  the  Potomac  army  will  ever  forget.  The  alert 
newsboy  made  a  good  business  by  furnishing  his  papers  to  reg 
ular  customers  for  twenty-five  cents  per  week.  Kules  as  to  the 
care  of  ammunition  magazines  were  especially  stringent,  and 
one  of  the  best  men  in  the  regiment  was  sent  to  the  guard 
house  because  he  did  not  detect  a  lighted  pipe  in  the  possession 
of  an  ordnance  sergeant  who  tried  to  play  smart  with  the  senti 
nel.  His  captain,  however,  got  him  released  speedily  and  he 
went  back  to  his  post.  The  next  time  this  sergeant  (he  didn't 
belong  to  the  Ninth)  tried  this  trick  he  was  himself  arrested. 

On  the  loth  a  vigorous  temperance  movement  was  made  by 
the  captain  of  Company  B,  who  with  a  squad  of  men  went  out 
and  broke  up  a  liquor  hole,  where  men  had  been  drinking  them 
selves  into  trouble.  There  were  few  regiments  staying  any 
length  of  time  near  Washington  that  did  not  have  similar  ex 
periences.  For  drunkenness  all  sorts  of  penalties  were  inflicted, 
such  as  standing  on  a  barrel,  wearing  said  barrel,  or  another 


LIFE  IN  THE  FORTS.  51 

with  only  the  man's  head  peering  through,  called  a  wooden 
overcoat;  lashed  to  a  cannon's  wheel,  or  doomed  to  keep  up  a 
weary  march  for  many  long  hours  with  a  knapsack  filled  with 
stones  or  solid  shot,  fifty  pounds  sometimes;  and  yet  they 
would  drink  if  opportunity  offered,  i.  e.,  some  of  the  men,  not 
by  any  means  those  who  detected  fossiliferous  limestones  in 
their  digging,  or  made  up  the  regular  Bible-class.  Temper 
sometimes  got  the  better  of  men  who  hardly  wished  to  render 
the  military  deference  to  the  officers  with  whom  they  had  been 
reared  and  whom  they  thought  no  better  than  themselves. 
Court-martials  were  not  unknown,  and  very  severe  penalties 
were  at  times  inflicted.  One  man  for  threatening  to  strike  his 
captain  was  sentenced  to  serve  his  term  of  enlistment  at  hard 
labor,  one  week  in  each  month  to  have  only  a  bread  and  water 
diet,  and  to  forfeit  all  pay.  The  place  for  the  infliction  of  such 
punishment  was  usually  the  Rip  Raps,  near  Fortress  Monroe. 
As  this  particular  soldier  was  discharged  in  1865  in  good  re 
pute,  it  must  be  that  industry  and  repentance  had  worked  re 
mission.  The  first  battalion  drill  was  had  on  the  21st  of  Feb 
ruary.  The  22d  was  properly  observed  by  a  salute  from  all 
the  forts.  About  this  time  there  is  excitement  in  camp  be 
cause  of  an  effort  to  enforce  protection  as  against  free  trade 
in  pies.  The  men  claimed  that  this  particularly  American 
variety  of  pastry  offered  by  outside  parties  was  much  better 
than  that  sold  by  the  sutler,  but  the  edict  went  forth  that  it 
must  be  the  sutler's  pies  or  none.  As  an  immediate  result, 
smuggling  of  the  most  heinous  character  followed,  for  what 
freeman  could  endure  having  restrictions  imposed  on  pie?  Had 
not  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  said  that  he  rated  the  intellectual 
ity  of  a  people  in  accordance  as  they  did  or  did  not  appreciate 
pie?  When  it  came  to  intellect  the  Ninth  played  second  to  no 
one.  The  28th  saw  the  inspection  of  the  regiment  between 
Forts  Reno  and  Bayard  on  the  grounds  lately  occupied  by  the 
117th  New  York,  which  was  about  joining  Burnside's  corps. 
Major  Snyder  is  now  in  command  in  Fort  Gains. 

Among  the  Latins  there  were  calendar  days  known  as  dies 
non,  or  no  days,  and  in  our  northern  clime  the  month  of  all 
others  most  eligible  to  the  appellation  mensis  non  is  March.  Disa 
greeable  in  every  way,  everywhere,  infinitely  worse  than  the 
English  November,  which  Tom  Hood  so  unmercifully  lam 
pooned,  what  wonder  that  the  campers  by  Potomac's  shore 


52  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

found  life  almost  a  burden  during  its  continuance?  It  was  the 
reign  of  slush,  yet  duty  of  all  kind  had  to  be  performed,  just 
the  same  as  though  May  blossoms  were  there.  On  the  3d  of 
the  month  a  most  distressing  accident  happened  in  Company 
F,  where  a  man  carelessly  discharged  a  gun,  killing  his  wife, 
the  mother  of  two  children.  It  was  another  instance  of  not 
knowing  that  it  was  loaded.  The  horror  of  it  was  greater 
than  that  of  the  battlefield. 

The  men  had  been  in  camp  long  enough  to  pretty  thoroughly 
indicate  their  dispositions  and  habits.  Those  that  were  filthy 
by  nature  began  to  be  obnoxious  to  their  more  cleanly  neigh 
bors,  and  crusades  were  wyaged  against  those  who  would  not 
keep  themselves  clear  from  body  vermin.  Then,  too,  the 
natural  shirk  made  himself  evident.  If  he  could  get  others  to 
do  the  work,  he  was  perfectly  content.  Nothing  inspired 
promptness  in  him  but  meal-time.  In  Company  G,  out  of  a 
shanty's  complement,  Private  L.  was  notorious  for  waiting  at 
reveille  till  the  very  last  moment,  and  then  barefooted,  clad  in 
drawers  and  shirt  only,  he  would  rush  out  to  roll-call.  Thence 
going  back  he  would  crawl  in  till  his  tent-mates  had  built  a 
fire  and  prepared  breakfast.  There  is  a  limit  to  all  endurance, 
and  this  was  Comrade  T.'s  thought  as  he  took  a  hot  musket 
ball,  in  some  way  left  near  the  fire,  and  dropped  it  down  the 
back  part  of  L.'s  drawers  conveniently  exposed.  There  was  no 
hesitation  in  his  resurrection.  He  came  out  quickly,  effect 
ually,  and  it  is  said  blasphemously.  The  lesson  was  not  lost. 

There  were  still  rifle-pits  to  be  made,  and  probably  would 
have  been  if  the  regiment  had  remained  in  the  defenses  to  the 
end  of  its  term  of  enlistment.  There  were  advantages,  how 
ever,  in  this  proximity  to  Washington  and  in  having  perma 
nent  quarters.  Dentists  came  up  from  the  Capital,  and  a  bar 
ber  made  a  living,  more  or  less,  at  his  vocation.  All  did  not 
patronize  the  company  cook,  some  preferring  to  boil,  bake  and 
stew  for  themselves,  and  in  this  the  highest  degree  of  liberty 
obtained.  During  these  March  nights  the  officers  had  military 
schools,  in  which,  as  one  of  them  said,  they  had  to  recite  like 
school-boys,  page  after  page,  all  about  the  ranges  of  the  guns, 
charges  of  powder,  elevation,  etc.  It  was  a  good  thing  for 
them,  too. 

April  was  a  distinct  advance  on  its  predecessor,  but  even  it 
was  not  faultless,  since  on  the  5th  April  showers  degenerated 
into  snow  a  foot  deep. 


LIFE  IN  THE  FORTS.  53 

With  its  new  name  and  character,  the  regiment  now  pos 
sessed  a  brass  band,  under  the  leadership  of  Jacob  Sager  of 
Clyde.  If  he  was  more  generally  known  in  the  9th  as  "Jake," 
it  was  because  of  his  ever  ready  and  genial  nature.  The  first 
public  appearance  of  this  body  was  April  6,  1863.  But  a  more 
extended  sketch  of  the  band  and  its  personnel  will  be  given 
in  a  later  chapter.  Georgetown  is  not  so  far  away  that  men 
can  not  go  thither  to  church  if  they  desire,  and  some  of  them 
do,  though  anything  so  constrained  as  a  church  pew  almost 
gives  them  cramps. 

May  brings  blossoms  and  better  spirits  to  the  boys,  though 
two  men  are  injured  in  Fort  Bayard  through  foolish  tinkering 
with  a  shell.  The  man  who  brought  it  into  the  camp  deserted, 
and  thus  escaped  punishment.  The  weather  is  fine,  and  activ 
ity  along  the  lines  of  the  Potomac  army  has  its  effect  in  the 
defenses,  for  somehow  rumors  of  rebel  raids  are  constantly  in 
the  air.  Hooker's  advance  tends  to  magnify  every  bit  of  al 
leged  news.  Pickets  were  reported  driven  in  on  the  Virginia 
side  of  the  Chain  Bridge  the  llth,  and  the  next  day  Lieutenant 
Colonel  Seward  was  hurt  by  a  fall  from  his  horse.  During  the 
next  week  every  cloud  of  dust  indicated  an  attack  of  rebel 
cavalry.  Could  the  latter  have  been  half  as  ubiquitous  as  our 
men's  fancy  made  them,  they  would  have  overrun  the  whole 
North  long  before.  On  the  21st  the  long  roll  was  responded 
to  by  a  grand  rush  to  the  forts  and  rifle-pits  without  order 
or  officers.  Secretary  Seward  and  family  witness  the  dress- 
parade  on  the  24th.  In  these  days  the  officers  are  trying  to  se 
cure  better  rifles  for  the  men,  but  reforms  are  slow. 

The  forts,  all  made  and  armed,  must  now  be  decorated,  and 
consequently  by  the  early  part  of  June,  they  are  completely 
sodded.  Anything  to  keep  the  boys  busy!  At  11  P.  M.  the 
28th,  another  scare  calls  the  men  into  the  rifle-pits,  and  there 
they  remain  till  morn.  Excitement  is  at  fever  heat.  Soldiers 
are  making  the  discovery,  sure  to  come  to  all  sooner  or  later, 
that  those  in  authority  who  are  the  most  lenient  in  matters 
of  discipline  are  not  necessarily  the  best  officers.  Stories  of 
this  sort  are  as  old  as  the  tale  of  the  Retreat  of  the  Ten  Thou 
sand  under  Xenophon. 

June,  1863,  is  a  busy  month  in  Virgina.  Hooker  and  Lee 
are  preparing  for  Gettysburg,  and  naturally  the  forts  are  hives 
of  apprehension.  Diligence  is  not  lacking,  and  shots  enough 


54  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

are  fired  at  targets  to  enable  the  cannoneers  to  become  excel 
lent  marksmen,  if  the  need  should  arise.  On  the  very  first 
day  of  the  month,  General  Heintzelman  said,  "No  more  passes;" 
but  boys  did  leave  the  camp  in  citizen's  clothing,  just  for  the 
fun  of  it,  running  the  risk  of  severe  punishment  if  caught.  On 
the  3d  all  women  save  those  doing  company  work  are  ordered 
from  camp.  Quite  a  number  of  officers  and  men  had  set  up  a 
sort  of  primitive  housekeeping.  Possibly  two  or  three  soldiersy 
wives,  in  each  company,  had  been  designated  to  do  laundry 
work,  mending,  etc. 

Pickets  are  sent  out  each  day,  five  from  each  company.  The 
7th  New  York  Artillery  is  with  us  and  the  cavalry  beyond. 
It  is  early  in  this  month  that  we  have  our  first  skirmish  drill. 
The  regiment  was  in  line  on  the  parade-ground  of  Camp  Morris, 
near  Fort  Simmons,  Company  B  at  the  right,  Colonel  Welling, 
Lieutenant  Colonel  Seward  and  the  other  staff  officers  being 
in  front  of  the  centre.  After  a  brief  consultation  with  his  staff 
officers,  Colonel  Welling  gave  the  following  order  to  the  first 
sergeant  of  Company  B :  "Orderly  Fish,  I  direct  you  to  organize 
a  skirmish  line  from  this  battalion."  Sergeant  Fish  promptly 
called  the  battalion  to  attention  and  directed  to  count  in  fives, 
which  numbers  (fives)  he  marched  three  paces  to  the  front,  and 
the  left  guide  sergeants  of  the  respective  companies  one  pace 
to  the  front.  After  dressing  the  line,  Sergeant  Fish  reported 
to  Colonel  Welling  that  the  skirmish  line  was  organized.  Here 
was  begun  the  drill  in  which  the  regiment  soon  became  pro 
ficient,  as  was  shown  later  in  field  service. 

Tuesday,  the  9th  of  June,  Secretaries  Seward  and  Salmon  P. 
Chase  of  the  treasury  favor  us  with  a  call.  Two  days  later, 
in  the  night,  the  men  again  rallied  to  the  forts;  the  next  night 
the  long  roll  brought  on  another  scare.  The  wonder  is  that 
so  many  false  cries  of  "wolf"  did  not  produce  a  condition  of 
indifference.  The  Harper's  Ferry  road  is  thoroughly  picketed. 
Each  day  brings  its  reports,  each  more  startling  than  its  pred 
ecessor.  Lieutenant  Colonel  Seward  had  been  away  in  Auburn, 
but  these  rumors  of  rebel  attack  bring  him  back  on  the  16th,  that 
he  may  be  on  hand  if  needed.  Again  the  long  roll  in  the  night 
of  the  18th  resulted  in  keeping  the  men  out  in  the  rain,  and  all 
because  an  over-cautious  sentinel  had  fired  his  gun  at  a  horse. 
The  21st  cannonading  is  heard  seemingly  at  Thoroughfare  Gap 
[it  really  is  at  Upperville].  The  2Bd  Companies  D  and  G, 


COMPANY   A   STREET,   FORT   SIMMONS. 


HEADQUARTERS   9TH   BATTALION,   2D   N.    Y.    H.    A.      FORT   C.    F.    SMITH. 


LIFE  IN  THE  FORTS.  55 

with  two  from  the  1st  Maine  Heavy  Artillery,  march  ten  miles 
to  a  point  near  Fort  Thayer  on  the  Baltimore  &  Washington 
railroad  to  work  on  rifle-pits  and  batteries,  three  miles  from 
Washington  and  two  from  Bladensburg.  On  the  same  day  A 
tents  followed,  the  entire  detachment  being  under  the  com 
mand  of  Major  Shepard*  of  the  1st  Maine.  The  men  dig  ten 
hours  a  day,  all  on  account  of  fear  of  rebel  cavalry  that  are 
reported  prowling  about.  These  companies  remained  here  till 
July  8th,  when  they  returned  to  their  quarters. 

The  efforts  to  secure  a  better  gun  succeeded  in  part,  and  on 
the  24th  of  June  some  of  the  companies  were  supplied  with 
Springfield  muskets.  The  28th  brought  a  scare  pretty  near  the 
forts,  since  on  that  day,  between  Tennallytown  and  Rockville, 
the  rebels  captured  and  destroyed  a  large  wagon-train.  This  was 
bringing  the  sound  of  arms  right  home,  and  as  a  consequence 
excitement  ran  high.f  Cavalry  pickets  were  driven  in,  and  it 
did  seem  for  a  while  as  though  the  boys  might  have  some 
fighting  to  do. 

July,  the  memorable  month  of  1863,  finds  the  Ninth  at  em 
ployment  no  more  warlike  than  the  handling  of  pick  and  shovel, 
and  filling  in  the  chinks  with  drilling.  The  consciousness  that 
some  one  must  do  such  work  was  consoling  to  certain  ones, 
but  more  were  restive  under  the  routine,  and  many  grumbling 
letters  were  written  home.  "Gettysburg-'  is  on  every  lip,  and 
the  boys  remark  on  their  having  all  the  hard  work  and  none  of 
the  glory,  though  they  did  think  there  was  some  chance  for 
them  when  Stuart  came  so  near.  The  women  and  the  sick 
were  sent  to  Washington,  and  every  preparation  was  made  to 
withstand  an  attack.  The  band  was  ordered  upon  the  breast 
works,  and  bade  play  "Yankee  Doodle"  for  all  that  they  were 
worth.  The  boys  had  lots  of  wind,  and  they  pumped  it  into 


*Major  Russell  B.  Shepard  subsequently  became  colonel  of  the  regi 
ment  and  brevet  brigadier  general.  When,  the  next  year,  the  regi 
ment  went  to  the  front,  it  was  soon  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  and  its 
death  record  in  battle  was  the  largest  of  all  the  2,047  regiments  that 
made  up  the  Union  army. 

tThis  was  another  of  J.  E.  B.  Stuart's  phenomenal  attacks.  It  was  a 
part  of  the  campaign  which  ended  at  Gettysburg.  He  actually  came 
within  less  than  five  miles  of  the  District  line.  There  were  125 
wagons  in  the  train,  whose  subsequent  keeping,  it  is  claimed,  hindered 
Stuart's  progress  and  so  contributed  to  Lee's  defeat;  really,  then,  a 
blessing  in  disguise. 


56  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

their  horns  till  some  prisoners  who  were  brought  in  later  de 
clared  they  thought  the  sound  came  from  a  brigade  aggrega 
tion.  It  was  the  colonel's  idea  that  music  might  encourage 
soldiers  as  well  as  charm  the  savage  ear. 

On  the  very  first  day  of  July,,  a  part  of  Company  C  goes  to 
Battery  Vermont,  and  later  twenty-five  men  from  each  company 
go  daily  to  Fort  Simmons  for  fatigue  duty.  Seemingly  the 
regiment  was  having  an  opportunity  to  turn  over,  at  least  once, 
the  soil  of  the  entire  District,  with  some  of  Maryland's  besides. 
It  was  in  this  month  that  Colonel  Welling  had  some  passages 
at  verbal  arms  with  Colonel  Morris,  commanding  the  brigade. 
Our  colonel  intimated  that  his  men  were  having  more  than 
their  share  of  the  digging  to  do,  and  that  he  would  like  to  see 
other  organizations  equally  pressed.  In  such  a  contest,  one 
need  not  be  told  where  the  sympathies  of  his  soldiers  were. 
In  another  bout  with  the  colonel  of  the  7th,  in  a  fort  directly 
under  the  latter's  command,  Colonel  Welling  saw  one  of  his 
men  doing  police  duty  wearing  ball  and  chain.  He  at  once 
asked  Colonel  Morris  why  the  man  should  be  thus  punished 
without  his  own  knowledge.  Morris  flew  into  a  passion  at 
once  and  challenged  Welling,  saying,  "Choose  your  weapons.'' 
Our  officer  replied  that  all  the  weapons  he  wanted  were  those 
that  God  had  given  him,  but  a  pugilistic  encounter  did  not 
appear  to  be  to  the  older  officer's  taste,  and  the  two  colonels 
separated,  Welling  going  back  to  his  camp.  While  a  fight 
with  the  weapons  furnished  by  nature  might  have  been  exciting, 
and  whose  details  might  enliven  these  pages,  we  can  not  help 
rejoicing  that  both  men  had  good  substrata  of  common  sense. 
Before  sunset,  the  9th  Heavy  man  was  released  and  sent  back 
to  his  own  quarters. 

Of  course  the  warm  weather  warranted  more  out-of-doors 
living  and  an  accompanying  change  of  fare.  The  boys  who  had 
made  griddle-cakes  and  pies  in  the  winter  now  tried  their 
hands  at  custards  and  Dutch  cheese,  but  even  these  did  not 
save  some  of  them  from  the  grip  of  nostalgia,  or  homesickness. 
There  are  men  living  to-day  who  would  have  died  as  soldiers 
had  not  their  discharges  been  given,  yet  the  most  careful 
diagnosis  could  discover  nothing  wrong  with  bodily  functions. 
Their  troubles  were  of  the  head  and  heart,  and  Shakespeare 
discovered  that  it  was  impossible  to  administer  to  minds  dis 
eased.  The  homesick  man  had  not  much  sympathy  from  his 


PORT    FOOTE.  57 

comrades;  he  may  even  have  received  their  ridicule,  but  he 
was  not  cured,  and  while  other  reasons  may  have  been  as 
signed  for  the  discharge,  the  real  one  was  an  irresistible  desire 
to  see  the  old  home  and  the  loved  ones. 

In  the  regular  chapter  of  accidents,  James  Allen  of  Company 
K  unfortunately  shoots  himself  on  the  27th,  and  dies  in  just 
one  week,  his  wife  arriving  on  the  morning  of  his  death.  His 
comrades  paid  the  expenses  incident  to  sending  his  body  home 
to  the  town  of  Galen,  where,  in  the  cemetery  at  Furguson's 
Corners,  it  was  laid  away  for  the  eternal  sleep. 

August  arrives  with  its  blistering  heat,  and  still  the  routine 
is  little  varied.  On  the  6th  was  observed  the  day  of  thanks 
giving,  praise  and  prayer,  proclaimed  by  the  president  in  token 
of  the  signal  victories  won  at  Vicksburg  and  Gettysburg.  One 
private  who  had  a  pass  to  Washington  on  this  day  remarked 
on  the  closing  of  all  places  of  business.  He  might  just  as  well 
have  stayed  in  camp,  so  far  as  benefit  from  his  trip  was  con 
cerned.  On  Sunday,  however,  he  fared  better,  for  then  he  went 
into  the  country  and  dined  with  a  citizen,  who  quite  won  his 
heart  through  refusing  to  take  pay  for  his  hospitality.  Many 
firm  friendships  were  established  in  this  way. 

The  13th  Companies  B  and  K  exchanged  places,  B  going  to 
Fort  Gains  and  K  to  Fort  Mansfield.  The  day  before  had  been 
promulgated  the  most  important  order  for  many  a  long  month. 
It  was  to  the  effect  that  Companies  C,  D,  E  and  G,  forming  a 
battalion,  the  2d  under  the  command  of  Lieutenant  Colonel 
Seward,  should  proceed  to  a  point  south  of  Washington,  and 
there  construct  a  large  fort.  Accordingly  at  5  A.  M.  on  the 
14th,  accompanied  by  the  regimental  band,  these  companies 
set  forth,  and  from  the  wharf  at  the  foot  of  D  street  took  a 
boat  for  Roziers  Bluff,  where  a  landing  was  made  at  about 
noon. 


CHAPTER     VIII. 

FORT  FOOTE. 

For  the  ensuing  nine  months  there  is  to  be  a  pretty  effectual 
separation  of  the  2d  Battalion  from  the  other  two,  which  re 
mained  in  their  former  quarters.  In  addition  to  Lieutenant 


58  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Colonel  Seward  the  detachment  is  accompanied  by  Major  Taft. 
The  site  selected  for  the  fortification  is  a  very  steep  bluff  100 
feet  high,  four  miles  from  Alexandria,  eight  from  Washington 
and  on  the  same  side  of  the  Potomac.  It  was  to  be  the  only 
defense  between  Fort  Washington  and  the  District  line.  It 
proved  to  be  one  of  the  very  largest  of  the  cordon  of  forts 
which  encircled  the  city.  It  was  wholly  outside  of  the  District 
and  faced  the  mouth  of  Hunting  creek,  on  whose  south  bank 
was  the  nearest  considerable  neighbor,  viz.,  Fort  Lyon.  Alex 
andria  became  the  base  of  supplies,  whence  also  came  a  daily 
mail  and  other  necessities.  Corporal  E.  W.  Newberry  of  Com 
pany  D,  who  had  pulled  many  an  oar  on  Great  Sodus  bay, 
became  the  post's  ferryman,  and  with  his  crew  semi-daily  he 
rows  to  and  fro  for  his  comrades.  The  locality,  though  elevated, 
was  particularly  malarial,  so  much  so  that  by  the  neighboring 
inhabitants  it  was  called  the  grave-yard  of  Prince  George 
county.  Nor  did  it  belie  its  name,  as  the  long  list  of  sick  and 
dead  from  typhoid  fever  and  like  diseases  bore  ample  testimony. 
Assistant  Surgeon  Dwight  W.  Chamberlain  accompanied  the 
battalion,  and  by  his  care  of  the  ailing  won  the  regard  of  all. 

Those  who  had  served  so  extended  an  apprenticeship  at  dig 
ging  in  the  northern  part  of  the  District  were  now  to  have  an 
other  and  extended  opportunity  to  develop  their  muscle  and  to 
assist  in  rendering  secure  the  most  talked  of  city  in  America. 
Apparently  the  new  fort  is  of  special  interest  to  General  J.  G. 
Barnard,  who  had  in  charge  the  laying  out  of  the  majority  of 
Washington's  defenses,  for  on  the  21st,  just  one  week  after 
the  arrival  of  our  boys,  he  came  down  with  no  less  distin 
guished  guests  than  the  president,  Secretary  Stanton,  Generals 
Heintzelman  and  Haskins,with  many  other  officers  and  citizens. 
If  all  that  they  saw  was  not  in  proper  order,  let  us  hope 
that  every  defect  received  its  proper  ascription. 

This  is  the  season  of  peaches  and  melons.  If  the  men  of  the 
Ninth  make  long  marches,  by  no  means  forced,  all  along  the 
Potomac  shore  of  Maryland,  it  is  not  on  topography  bent,  but 
rather  to  afford  a  home  market  for  the  special  products  of 
that  favored  locality.  There  is  no  diary  of  this  period  that 
does  not  teem  with  records  of  luscious  fruit  and  juicy  melons, 
the  very  recollection  of  which,  to  this  day,  makes  the  veteran's 
mouth  water.  As  offered  for  sale  in  the  camp,  everything  is 
surprisingly  cheap.  A  haversack  full  of  peaches  costs  but 


FORT    FOOTE.  59 

twelve  and  one-half  cents,  and  that  receptacle  would  hold  well 
towards  a  peck.  The  weather  is  extremely  warm,  but  this  does 
not  delay  the  work,  a  large  part  of  which  is  done  upon  the  road 
leading  up  from  the  river  to  the  camp  and  fort.  The  hours  of 
toil  are  not  made  more  agreeable  by  the  stories  that  visitors 
from  Fort  Simmons  tell  of  the  restful,  quiet  times  they  are 
having  there.  Early  in  September,  150  men  from  the  four 
companies  are  working  ten  hours  each  day,  but  just  how  hard 
some  of  them  labor  may  be  inferred  from  their  taking  a  stint 
on  the  8th,  which  they  complete  before  10  A.  M.  Men  are  only 
boys  of  a  larger  growth.  About  this  time  the  malarial  climate 
began  to  get  in  its  work,  and  by  the  10th  nearly  or  quite  one- 
half  of  the  officers  and  men  are  on  the  sick  list,  among  them 
Major  Taft,  who  is  so  badly  off  that  even  drums  and  bugles 
are  suppressed.  As  he  convalesced  ten  days  later,  the  major 
was  carried  to  a  neighboring  farm-house,  thinking  that  he 
might  improve  more  rapidly  there.  On  this  very  day,  the  21st, 
our  lieutenant  colonel  is  taken  down,  and  on  the  following  day 
his  father,  the  secretary,  comes  and  has  him  removed  to  Wash 
ington  ;  so  weak  is  the  colonel  he  is  borne  from  the  camp  to  the 
boat  upon  a  stretcher.  The  hospital  record  for  these 
autumnal  days  is  a  sad  one  of  sickness  and  death. 
To  unacclimated  people  the  river's  shore  was  often  pestalen- 
tial.  In  this  year,  1898,  when  so  much  is  said  of  suffering 
soldiers  in  Cuba,  it  is  not  amiss  to  remember  that  equally 
great  affliction  was  had  along  this  Potomac  river  in  the  years  of 
the  Kebellion,  and  very  little  note  was  made  of  it,  the  death  loss 
in  battle  being  so  much  more  conspicuous.*  The  funeral  march 
became  the  one  most  often  heard.  Just  before  Major  Taft  was 
attacked,  the  camp  was  moved  down  the  river,  hoping  thus  to 
find  a  healthier  place.  Meanwhile  warlike  preparations  go  for 
ward,  and  the  earthworks  slowly  arise  for  the  reception  of 
guns,  and  on  the  25th  their  carriages  begin  to  arrive.  The  25th 
gladdens  many  a  heart,  for  on  this  day  the  major  returns  to 
camp,  though  he  has  to  ride  back  in  an  ambulance. 

*Whitelaw  Reid,  historian  of  Ohio  in  the  War  of  the  Rebellion,  says 
that  the  169th,  which  spent  its  100  days  at  Fort  Ethan  Allen  in  1864, 
had  200  men  in  that  time  die  or  be  permanently  disabled  through  dis 
ease  alone.  More  than  fifty  died.  At  the  same  time  the  133d,  an 
other  100- day  regiment,  stationed  at  Fort  Powhatan,  on  the  James, 
had  300  men  down  with  fever.  If  the  public  knew  this  at  the  time,  it 
has  certainly  forgotten  it  in  the  clamor  over  Cuban  malaria. 


60  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

October  1st  is  a  memorable  day,  for  then  Secretary  Seward 
and  friends  appear  and  give  the  works  their  name,  and  those 
who  hear  it  are  not  disappointed,  for  that  of  Commodore 
Foote,*  the  river  hero  of  Forts  Henry  and  Donelson,  was  al 
ready  a  cherished  one  in  America.  Sickness  causing  the  ao- 
sence  of  the  field  officers,  who  had  been  helped  from  the  camp, 
Major  Snyder  came  down  on  the  4th  and  took  command.  An 
immense  200-pound  Parrott  gun  arrives  on  the  13th,  and  on 
the  22d  has  its  first  trial,  at  which  time  Secretaries  Chase  and 
Welles  (of  the  Navy),  Generals  Barnard  and  Augur  with  nu 
merous  others  came  to  witness  the  event. 

The  hospital  is  a  very  important  part  of  the  camp,  and  has 
dimensions,  20x100  feet;  none  too  large  for  the  increasing  num 
ber  of  sick.  On  the  31st  no  less  than  twenty-two  men  are 
furloughed  home,  that  they  may  vote  in  the  November  elec 
tions.  Persimmons  follow  peaches,  and  those  who  know  how 
to  wait  for  the  ripening  fruit  till  Jack  Frost  has  touched  them 
find  them  a  most  enjoyable  dainty,  but  the  injudicious  adven 
turer  who,  lured  by  their  tempting  yellow  skin,  tasted  them 
out  of  season,  has  ascribed  any  subsequent  oral  difficulties  to 
that  early  indiscretion. 

While,  November  3d,  voters  at  home  are  recording  their  polit 
ical  opinions,  there  is  nothing  more  for  soldiers  to  do  than  to 
just  express  their  feelings,  which  many  of  them  do.  One  care 
ful  observer  says,  "There  are  few  Democrats  in  the  army,  or 
if  there  are  they  are  ashamed  to  own  it."  On  the  6th  comes 
the  big  fifteen-inch  gun,  which  is  rolled,,  not  carried,,  to  the  fort. 
The  llth  marks  the  completion  of  barracks  for  Companies  C 
and  G,  and  on  the  16th  those  companies  with  E  move  in.  On 
the  19th  D  followed.  The  22d,  Sunday,  Sergeant  Devoe  of 
Company  G  preached  in  the  hospital.  The  28th  marked  the 
advent  of  stores  for  cook-house  and  barracks,  though  the 
quantity  is  pronounced  insufficient;  more  came  later. 

December  22d  four  Russian  war  vessels  are  noted  moving  up 
the  river.  Winter  settles  down  upon  the  men,  some  of  whom 
reflect  that  they  are  not  doing  much  for  the  war,  "but  some 
one  must  stay  here."  The  mess-house,  16x40  feet,  is  opened  on 


*Andrew  Hull  Foote,  born  in  New  Haven,  Conn.,  September  12th, 
1806,  died  in  New  York  city  June  26,  1863.  Named  for  one  naval  hero, 
served  his  apprenticeship  under  Porter,  another, — what  wonder  that 
he  made  his  own  name  a  proud  one  in  his  country's  annals. 


FORT    FOOTE.  61 

the  10th.  Christmas,  so  lively  and  jolly  at  home,  is  dull  enough 
here  for  many,  though  some,  having  made  acquaintances 
among  the  near-by  citizens,  find  home  sensation  in  calling, 
even  if  there  secesh  notions  abound,  for  youth  ever  rises  supe 
rior  to  political  and  sectional  feelings.  Borneo  and  Juliet  were 
from  opposing  houses.  Then  there  were  cases  of  fun  and  jollity 
right  in  camp,  since  in  Company  D  Captain  Lyon  ordered  ten 
gallons  of  oysters  and  twelve  dollars'  worth  of  poultry.  Henry 
Porter  of  Sodus  Point  and  J.  J.  Vickery  of  Lyons  went  out  with 
guns  and  dogs  and  secured  a  buck  deer  weighing  200  pounds, 
all  of  which  served  to  brighten  the  surroundings  not  a  little. 

1864. 

January  brings  very  little  variety  to  the  camp,  though  drill 
of  all  kinds  is  kept  up  regularly  with  accompanying  inspections 
and  dress-parades.  In  these  quiet  days  and  this  secluded  place, 
the  officers  have  an  excellent  opportunity  to  study  regulations 
and  tactics,  which  some  of  them  conscientiously  seize.  Mean 
while  the  weather  becomes  very  cold,  and  the  Potomac  freezes 
so  hard  that,  on  the  8th,  the  boat  makes  landings  on  the  ice. 
The  next  day,  men  cross  the  river  on  the  ice  to  Alexandria. 
Cleanliness  is  maintained,  and  in  spite  of  the  weather  the  bar 
racks  are  regularly  scrubbed  and  kept  in  the  best  of  order. 
Those  who  can  obtain  permission  to  visit  Forts  Simmons,  Reno 
and  other  old  stamping-grounds,  just  for  the  maintenance  of 
friendly  relations  and  the  return  of  courtesies,  for  the  officers 
and  men  from  those  parts  as  often  as  possible  came  down  to 
the  fort. 

Though  as  good  as  the  average  soldiers,  all  of  the  Ninth's 
men  wrere  not  angels  and  court-martials  were  not  unknown, 
though  it  would  puzzle  some,  after  this  lapse  of  years,  to  tell 
what  they  were  all  about.  However  important  then,  they  have 
been  forgotten  in  the  hurry  of  later  living.  The  ice  reign  con 
tinues  in  the  river  and  boats  have  to  break  their  way  through. 

Officers  are  responsible  for  the  care  of  company  funds  aris 
ing  from  the  use  of  government  appropriations  for  rations. 
Instead  of  dealing  out  to  each  man  his  portion,  all  combine 
and  live  in  common,  thereby  saving  so  much  that  luxuries 
otherwise  impossible  are  obtained,  and,  besides,  the  individual 
is  spared  the  necessity  of  preparing  his  own  food,  certain  ones 
from  each  company  being  quite  willing  to  serve  in  the  capacity 


62  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

of  cooks  for  all.  Whatever  there  might  be  over  and  above  the 
cost  of  rations  could  be  applied  to  the  purchasing  of  better 
equipment  for  the  mess-tables.  A  strict  accounting  was  re 
quired  from  the  officer  in  charge,  and  while  no  scandal  ever 
arose  in  our  regiment  there  were  those,  during  the  war,  whose 
officers  had  no  end  of  trouble  in  making  clear  their  relations 
to  the  respective  funds. 

Captain  William  Wood  made  out  on  the  16th  no  less  than 
ten  discharge  papers,  for  disability  incident  to  the  situation 
is  great.  Fever  germs  still  linger,  and  there  are  few  men  at 
the  post,  notwithstanding  the  cold  weather,  who  do  not  use 
a  deal  of  quinine.  To  crown  all  these  disadvantages,  on  the 
19th  of  January  Post  Adjutant  Redgraves  is  taken  down  with 
the  small-pox.  But  there  are  diversions  for  those  who  call 
themselves  well,  and  catching  rabbits  in  the  snow  is  great  fun 
for  the  boys;  the  feelings  of  the  victims  are  not  recorded. 

February  1st  was  made  noteworthy  in  Company  D  by  the 
change  from  tin  dishes  to  earthenware,  all  through  the  hus 
banding  of  the  company  fund.  The  other  companies  were 
likewise  equipped,  then  or  later.  As  Chaplain  Mudge  had  re 
mained  with  the  larger  part  of  the  regiment,  preaching  was 
had  on  Sunday  by  different  men,  the  Christian  Commission 
occasionally  sending  a  minister.  There  are  some  indications  of 
home  life,  for  several  officers  and  men  have  their  better-halves 
with  them,  and  calls  on  St.  Valentine's  day  are  on  record. 
On  the  17th  there  is  ice  three  inches  thick  on  the  river.  Wash 
ington's  birthday  marks  the  taking  command  of  Company  D  by 
Captain  Bacon,  Captain  Lyon  having  resigned.  The  latter  de 
parted  for  home  on  the  27th,  and  in  going  away  made  a  good 
speech,  which  the  boys  cheered  to  the  echo. 

The  great  Rodman  gun  is  still  a  curiosity,  and  has  to  have  a 
drill  of  its  own.  The  27th  two  shots  were  fired  from  the  200- 
pound  Parrott  and  three  from  the  15-inch  Rodman,  solid  globes 
of  iron  weighing  433  pounds.  Crowds  of  visitors  beheld  the  trial. 
To  take  the  places  of  the  many  discharged  and  to  bring  the 
companies  up  to  the  maximum  limit,  numerous  recruits  come 
in  during  these  weeks,  occasionally  to  be  stigmatized  as  "small 
boys"  by  those  longer  in  the  service;  some  even  say,  "No  good." 
Time  will  tell  whether  such  judgment  is  right  or  not.  Lieuten 
ant  Colonel  Seward  returned  to  his  duties  on  the  19th,  and 
his  hand  is  soon  evident  in  everv  direction.  His  illness  had  in 


FORT    FOOTE.  03 

no  way  impaired  his  vigor.  On  the  29th,  Leap  year's  day,  the 
battalion  was  mustered  for  four  months'  pay. 

Another  March  is  not  without  the  expected  characteristics 
of  the  month.  The  biggest  snow-storm  of  the  season  came  on 
the  23d,  and  New  York  boys  were  reminded  of  their  own  Lake 
Ontario  region.  In  addition  to  the  regular  physical  ills  of  this 
locality  there  came  an  epidemic  of  sore  throats.  The  18th  of 
March  brings  forty-two  recruits  to  Company  G.  Secretary  Se\v- 
ard  does  not  forget  his  boy,  and  frequently  drops  down  the  river 
to  see  him  and  the  latter's  men.  On  the  13th  he  came  with  cer 
tain  foreigners  as  guests,  possibly  Prussians.  In  his  honor  the 
big  flag  was  hung  out,  but  the  strong  wind  with  so  much  sail 
was  too  much  for  the  staff,  and  it  broke  above  the  upper  splice. 
Then  the  soldier  carpenters  had  to  repair  it,  which  they  wert 
abundantly  able  to  do  as  well  as  to  build  docks  at  the  river's 
edge,  and  to  make  anything  that  ws  needed.  Officers  main 
tain  an  evening  class  to  perfect  themselves  in  military  knowl 
edge.  The  24th  a  target  was  set  up  across  the  river,  the  dis 
tance  having  been  ascertained  by  computation,  for  the  Ninth 
wyas  ready  for  any  sort  of  exaction. 

As  it  has  ever  done,  whiskey  gets  men  into  trouble,  and  the 
army  was  a  particularly  fine  field  for  evidencing  its  power. 
One  of  the  battalion,  noted  for  his  love  of  the  intoxicating  cup, 
gets  drunk,  makes  a  raid  into  the  neighboring  country,  and 
winds  up  his  carouse  with  a  musket  ball  in  his  leg,  sent  there 
by  an  irate  countryman,  whom  he  had  most  grievously  offended. 
This  same  soldier  was  noted  for  his  range  of  tricks  and  pranks; 
he  was  the  man  who  once  smuggled  a  quantity  of  liquor  out 
of  Alexandria  by  putting  his  flasks  in  a  child's  coffin  and  then 
with  a  sad  face,  such  as  a  bereaved  father  might  be  expected 
to  wear,  he  bore  his  spirits,  by  no  means  departed,  across  the 
river  and  into  camp.  The  closing  incident  of  the  month  was 
the  adventure  of  a  Company  E  drummer,  who  rowed  a  boat  to 
a  low  island  in  the  river,  and  leaving  it  unfastened,  with  the 
rising  tide  it  floated  off;  and  he  on  account  of  the  same  tide 
had  to  spend  the  night  in  a  tree,  an  experience  he  never  forgot, 
though  he  had  an  unexampled  opportunity  to  reflect  on  the 
Darwinian  theory  which  ascribes  to  early  humanity  traits  that 
were  decidedly  arboreal. 

The  following  is  a  fair  presentation  of  daily  routine,  the 
same  being  from  notes  made  at  the  time: 


64  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Keveille  at  day-break. 

Breakfast  at  7  o'clock. 

Fatigue  from  7.30  to  11.30. 

Dinner  at  12  M. 

Fatigue  from  1  to  5  P.  M. 

Supper  at  6  o'clock. 

For  those  who  were  not  laboring  there  was  drill  from  2  to  4 
P.  M.  In  the  evening,  there  were  whist  or  other  diversions 
till  9  o'clock;  then  came  taps,  and  sleep  till  the  next  reveille 
called  to  wakefulness  and  work.  With  plenty  of  quinine  to 
keep  off  the  chills,  there  was  no  trouble  as  to  appetite. 

April,  the  -month  of  budding  hopes,  finds  the  battalion  still 
preparing.  On  the  first,  or  All  Fools'  day,  a  large  party  comes 
down  from  Washington  to  witness  the  workings  of  the  big 
guns.  The  great  Kodman  is  fired  at  25  degrees  elevation,  three 
miles'  range.  On  the  6th  comes  the  first  skirmish  drill  here, 
of  which  there  is  afterwards  frequent  recurrence.  Scarcely 
a  day  without  some  additions  to  the  ranks  by  way  of  recruits. 
The  17th,  Sunday,  Episcopal  service  is  conducted  by  an  army 
chaplain,  not  ours. 

The  event  of  the  month  was  the  presentation,  on  the  23d,  of 
an  elegant  sword  costing  $350  to  Lieutenant  Colonel  Seward. 
This  amount  was  raised  by  his  fellow  soldiers,  and  was  made 
an  inspiring  occasion  by  the  presence  of  many  friends,  includ 
ing  ladies  from  Washington,  the  regimental  band,  etc.  In  the 
presence  of  the  battalion,  Captain  William  Wood  of  Company 
G  spoke  eloquently  as  follows: 

"In  this  time  of  peril,  of  suspense,  and  of  doubt,  when  the 
shifting  fortunes  of  war,  and  the  stern  duties  upon  every  citi 
zen  in  consequence,  render  it  uncertain  whether  those  who^  as 
comrades  in  battle  stand  shoulder  to  shoulder  in  the  defense 
of  their  country  to-day,  may  not,  by  the  relentless  decree  of 
fate  or  the  imperative  necessity  of  their  country's  good,  be 
separated  to-morrow,  to  meet  again,  never;  if  it  is  fit  for  them 
to  give  expression  to  their  affectionate  regard,  especially  is  it 
fit  for  soldiers  to  give  expression  to  their  devotion  to  their 
commander;  and  that  which  in  the  quiet  times  of  peace  would 
be  a  tame  and  meaningless  ceremony  is  big  with  interest  and 
earnest  feeling.  Colonel  Seward,  reluctantly,  because  con 
scious  of  my  inability  to  perform  in  a  befitting  manner  the  com 
plimentary  office  assigned  me,  I  appear,  in  behalf  of  the  2d 


FORT    FOOTE.  65 

Battalion,  to  say  to  you  that  the  officers  and  men,  that  every 
officer,  and  every  man,  now  or  recently  connected  with  it,  un 
less  so  recently  attached  as  to  have  been  deprived  of  the  privi 
lege,  have  an  interest  in  making  the  request  of  you,  that  you 
will  accept  this  steel  from  donors  who  are  happy  and  proud 
to  bestow  it,  as  a  memorial  of  their  high  appreciation  of  your 
impartial  justice,  their  confidence  in  your  unflinching  courage 
and  their  admiration  of  your  exalted  leadership.  Take  it,  and 
join  with  them  as  they  know  you  do  in  reverential  trust  that 
the  Omnipotent  Disposer  of  all  things  will  give  success  to  our 
finance,  and  success  to  our  arms.  Take  it  and  join  with  them, 
as  they  are  sure  you  do,  in  the  firm  and  fixed  resolve  that  the 
stars  and  stripes  shall  never  permanently  cease  to  float  over 
one  inch  of  territory  where  it  ever  waved.  Take  it  and  be 
assured  that  with  it,  you  have,  without  dissimulation,  the 
hearts  ever  true  of  the  officers  and  men  of  the  2d  Battalion. 
It  is  from  zealo.us  and  willing  men  to  their  energetic  and  effi 
cient  chief." 

To  these  words  Colonel  Seward  made  fitting  response,  touch 
ing  feelingly  on  the  cordial  relations  so  long  existing  among 
them,  and  all  felt  that  the  day  was  a  precursor  of  one  when 
the  regiment  might  reverse  the  Scriptural  sentence  and  so 
transform  their  picks,  shovels  and  other  instruments  of  hus 
bandry  into  those  of  war. 

The  next  day  drill  was  resumed  as  usual,  and  one  man 
records  four  roll-calls.  Obviously,  no  man  guilty  or  otherwise 
was  to  be  allowed  to  escape.  In  firing  a  200-pound  Parrott  the 
26th,  a  shell  exploded  at  the  muzzle  of  the  gun.  Luckily  no 
one  was  hurt.  The  month  ends  with  a  large  party  of  men 
building  a  road  through  some  neighboring  woods. 

May  is  to  end  the  stay  of  the  battalion  in  Fort  Foote,  a  place 
in  which  its  members  had  been  so  long  that  some  of  them 
actually  began  to  refer  to  it  as  home.  Coming  events  were 
making  themselves  felt,  if  not  by  forecasted  shadows,  at  any 
rate  in  more  drill  in  the  extensive  assortment  that  was  dealt 
out  to  all  heavy  artillery  regiments.  May  7th  Companies  E 
and  C  left  for  forts  across  the  Eastern  Branch,  a  long  way 
around  by  water,  but  only  a  little  distance  had  there  been 
means  of  communication  by  land.  Extensive  preparations  are 
making  in  all  the  companies  for  an  active  campaign.  Extra 
clothing  is  packed  for  storage,  or  is  sent  home.  On  the  10th  D 
5 


66  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

and  G  take  their  departure,  going  direct  to  Alexandria.  The 
battalion  had  done  well  the  duty  assigned,  and  now  a  new 
field  was  opening  before  it  and  the  remainder  of  the  regiment. 


CHAPTEK     IX. 

SOLDIERING  IN  THE  DEFENSES. 

The  2d  Battalion  having  betaken  itself  to  Rozier's  Bluff,  the 
other  seven  companies  were  left  to  their  accustomed  diversions 
In  the  forts  which  they  had  so  largely  themselves  constructed. 
During  the  ensuing  summer  and  winter  the}'  were  disposed 
as  follows:  Companies  A,  I  and  M,  under  Colonel  Welling, 
were  at  Fort  Simmons;  H  and  K,  at  Fort  Mansfield,  under 
Major  Snyder;  B,  at  Fort  Gains,  and  F,  at  Fort  Bayard.  Ex 
cept  for  personal  incident,  there  was  very  little  in  the  follow 
ing  months  to  distinguish  one  week  from  another.  The  general 
health  of  the  men  was  good;  drill  with  attendant  fatigue  duty 
kept  their  appetites  up  to  the  size  of  their  rations.  Large  and 
roomy  barracks  were  constructed,  into  which  the  several  com 
panies  moved  in  due  time,  and  there  a  degree  of  bodily  comfort 
was  had  quite  unknown  in  their  former  experience.  The  repu 
tation  of  the  Ninth  as  a  fort  and  road  builder  with  its  hold  on 
distinguished  Washington  circles  insured  for  it  many  guests 
on  parade  occasions,  though  Secretary  Seward,  at  present,  is 
turning  his  face  toward  Fort  Foote. 

Many  of  the  officers  and  men  had  their  families  with  them, 
a  practice  prevalent  among  all  the  regiments  doing  garrison 
duty  about  Washington,  thereby  permitting  pleasures  quite 
rare  in  u  soldier's  life.  Small  houses  were  built  near  the  bar 
racks,  thus  admitting  a  condition  of  privacy  otherwise  impos 
sible.  When  men  kept  house  in  this  manner,  they  did  not 
live  in  commons,  but  drew  their  rations,  adding  thereto  such 
other  articles  as  their  needs  demanded.  Frequently  they  fur 
nished  table-board  for  officers  who  were  unmarried  or  who  had 
not  brought  their  partners  to  the  fort.  So  comfortable  was 
barrack-life  that  occasionally  young  soldiers  became  almost 
lazy,  but  woe  to  the  boy  who  thought  to  take  daylight  naps 
undisturbed.  In  Company  I  a  lad  of  rather  indolent  nature 
had  become  a  sound  sleeper,  even  in  the  daytime,  and  roguish 


\ 


SOLDIERING  IN  THE  DEFENSES.  67 

comrades  determined  to  break  him  of  his  habit.  Accordingly 
they  tied  to  one  of  his  ankles  a  strong  rope  and  to  the  other 
end  of  said  cord  a  heavy  stone,  and  this  they  dropped  through 
a  gable  window,  near  which  the  sleeper's  bunk  was  located. 
Whenever  he  moved  in  his  dreams,  as  his  tormentors  took  good 
care  that  he  should,  the  weight  drew7  him  outward  and  gradually 
upward  till  at  last  he  was  footed,  not  headed,  for  the  window. 
Waking  and  finding  himself  thus  inverted,  he  yelled  in  terror 
till  his  captain,  responsive,  came  and  cut  him  down.  The  ac 
companying  jeers  of  his  comrades  effectually  ended  midday 
slumbers  for  him. 

During  the  long  summer  months,  morning  came  early  and 
the  bugler  held  no  sinecure.  He  sounded  the  reveille  at  day 
break.  The  company-cooks  had  been  up  a  long  time,  for  break 
fast-call  came  at  5.30,  with  the  surgeons'  following  hard  after 
at  6  o'clock;  company  police  at  6.30.  Then  he  continued  to 
sound  thus: 

Artillery-drill,  7  to  8.  Battalion-drill,  4  P.  M. 

Fatigue,  6.30  and  11.30.  Dress-parade,  6  o'clock. 

Guard-mount,  7  o'clock.  Dress-parade,  S'days,  5.30. 

Infantry-drill,  8.30  and  10.  Supper,  7  o'clock. 

Orderlies'  call,  10.30.  Retreat  at  sundown. 

Dinner,  12  M.  Tattoo,  8.30. 

General  police,  1.30  P.  M.  Taps,  9  o'clock  P.  M. 

The  man  who  responded  to  his  share  of  the  foregoing  routine 
came  pretty  near  earning  the  stipend  that  the  government  al 
lowed  him. 

To  every  phase  of  camp-life  the  average  man  speedily  adapts 
himself.  His  love  of  the  ludicrous,  his  power  of  invention  and 
his  nevor-failing  fund  of  variety  suggest  diversions  that  in  mem 
ory,  at  least,  are  delightful.  There  were  few  to  whom  that  day 
break  bugle-call  was  not  unconscionably  early,  yet  fear  of  extra 
police  duty  made  them  get  into  line,  in  some  shape,  before  the 
final  notes  of  fife  and  drum  had  died  away.  Can  the  man  be 
found  who  first  gave  the  rhythmic  interpretations  of  these 
calls?  Some  would  hardly  bear  rendering  to  ears  polite,  but 
there  were  those  that  were  clean  and  bright.  The  liquid  notes 
of  reveille  were  seldom  ended  without  some  one  shouting  in 
tune  words  that  just  fitted  the  bugle  sounds: 


68  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

"I  can't  get  'em  up,  I  can't  get  'em  up  this  morning; 
I  can't  get  'em  up,  I  can't  get  'em  up,  I  S — A — Y. 
The  corporal's  worse  than  the  private, 
The  sergeant's  worse  than  the  corporal, 
The  lieutenant's  worse  than  the  sergeant, 
The  captain's  worst  of  them  A — L — L." 

Then  as  the  final  note  died  away  in  melodious  attenuation^ 
the  fife  and  drum  took  up  their  part,  and  did  mortal  ears  ever 
catch  more  inspiring  music  than  that  which  they  afforded, 
most  often  that  never-wearying  "Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me,"  and 
many  a  lad  ran,  buttoning  his  clothes  as  he  hurried  into  line, 
humming  to  himself, 

uOh,  lonely,  weary  are  the  hours, 
Since  I  crossed  the  hills  to  Nadjie." 

There  was  no  parade  precision  about  roll-call,,  but  every  man 
must  respond  to  his  name  or  be  accounted  for  if  he  would  save 
himself  trouble.  Sometimes  there  were  responses  aside  from 
the  stereotyped  "here"  which  followed  the  first  sergeant's  call 
of  one's  name,  as  when,  on  a  particularly  cold  spring  morning, 
just  after  the  accession  of  several  recruits,  for  the  first  time 
were  heard  the  words,  "Patrick  O'Rourke,"  though  that  was 
not  the  name.  In  the  richest  of  brogue,  from  the  extreme  left 
of  the  line  came  immediately,  "Hare;  and  d — d  sorry  fur  it,  too." 

Mess-call  was  heard  with  pleasure  by  those  to  whose  sharp 
ened  appetites  food  was  ever  welcome,  though  the  interpreta 
tion  might  not  captivate  Delmonico's  diners.  It  ran  thus: 

"Soupy,  soupy,  soupy,  without  any  bean, 
Porky,  porky,  porky,  without  any  lean, 
Coffee,  coftee,  coffee,  without  any  cream." 

It  is  a  sad  comment  on  human  nature  that  when  there  was 
plenty  of  work  to  do,  the  line  of  men  responding  to  the  sur 
geons'  call  was  a  long  one.  It  is  a  wonder  that  many  surgeons, 
except  in  case  of  actual  wounds,  did  not  have  in  mind  the 
Scriptural  words:  "All  men  are  liars;"  still,  the  best  of  men 
under  fire  and  on  the  march  all  hated  fatigue  duty.  This  is  one 
of  the  interpretations  of  the  call,  based  on  the  surgeon's  fre 
quent  prescriptions.  Had  castor  oil  been  equally  rhythmic,  that 
also  had  been  heard  in  the  version : 

"Get  your  quinine,  get  your  quinine, 
'Twill  cure  your  ills,  'twill  cure  your  pains, 
Get  your  q-u-i-n-i-n-e — e — e— e." 


SOLDIERING  IN  THE  DEFENSES.  69 

Another  version  often  heard  was: 

"Are  you  all  dead?  are  you  all  dead? 
No,  thank  the  Lord,  there's  a  few  left  yet, 
There's  a  few— left— yet." 

After  all,  what  the  soldiers  wanted  was  an  excuse  from  duty 
rather  than  medicine.  One  man  persisted  in  wearing  shoes  too 
short  for  him,  thus  crippling  his  feet,  and  his  commonly  ac 
cepted  title  was  "Old  Sore-toes."  He  seldom  failed  to  re 
spond  to  the  call,  and  he  did  precious  little  duty.  "I  had  a  cold 
sweat  last  night,"  or,  "I  feel  all  played  out,"  called  for  an 
exhibiting  of  the  tongue,  a  test  of  the  pulse  and  the  regular 
prescription  of  castor  oil  and  quinine.  The  surgeons  knew  their 
men  pretty  well  and  seldom  did  them  an  injustice.  When,  on 
a  march,  the  weakling  wanted  to  ride  in  the  ambulance,  he 
would  frequently  be  told  that  if  he  didn't  feel  better  after  a 
while  he  could  ask  the  doctor  again.  Some  did;  more  didn't. 

When  the  day  was  done  and,  at  9  o'clock,  it  was  time  for 
"lights  out,"  the  bugle-call  that  sounded  on  the  evening  air 
was  as  sweet  as — 

"Horns  of  elfland  faintly  blowing!" 

Whatever  the  soldier  forgets  or  remembers,  the  notes  of 
taps  will  never  fail  his  memory,  and  sleepily  he  follows  the  de 
licious  melody  as  it  swells,  and  anon  sinks  away  in  dying 
echoes.  To  soldierly  ears  it  said,  "Put  out  your  lights,"  re 
peated  four  or  five  times,  though  another  and  more  popular 
wording  was,  "Go  to  bed,"  repeated  in  same  manner.  In  the 
defenses,  passed  from  fort  to  fort;  from  hill-top  to  hill-top,  each 
night  it  encircled  the  Capital  with  a  chain  of  linked  sweetness 
unexcelled  since  "the  morning  stars  sang  together  and  all  the 
sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy." 

Every  company  had  a  certain  number  of  mechanics,  and 
these  men  made  themselves  useful  in  building  under  the  direc 
tion  of  government  engineers  nearly  everything  that  made  up 
the  forts  and  their  equipments.  Batteries,  rifle-pits,  and  walls, 
all  of  them  continued  to  make  of  the  vicinity  anything  but  an 
ideal  farming  section.  Letters  came  from  home  with  due  regu 
larity,  at  least  to  many  of  the  boys,  and  visitors  from  the  home 
locality  were  not  infrequent.  The  members  of  Company  B  will 
not  forget  the  job  some  of  them  put  up  on  one  of  their  visitors 
who  found  the  dispensary  with  the  liquid  entertainment  af- 


70  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

forded  there  exceedingly  pleasant.     Having  prevailed  on  one 
of  the  attendants  to  act  as  guard,  when  at  a  late  hour  the 
party  broke    up,  they    were  halted  and  all    save  the  visitor 
skulked  according  to  programme,  he  dodged  back  into  the  dis 
pensary,  and,  with  his  boots  on,  crawled  into  bed  with  a  colored 
boy,  who  vainly  protested  against  such  intrusion.     Failing  to 
hush  the  cries  of  the  contraband,  and  expecting  the  guard  to 
enter  at  any  moment,  the  unhappy  civilian  determined  to  make 
a  grand  rush,  and  darted  forth,  but  the  make-believe  guard 
was  equally  alert,  and  having  listened  to  his  pleadings  for  quiet 
with  the  negro-boy,  he  commanded    a    halt,  and  brought  his 
gun  to  a  firing  posture,  at  the  same  time  cocking  it.    The  omi 
nous  click  of  the  hammer  produced  an  immediate  halt,  and  the 
gentleman  was  arrested  as  a  suspicious  character  and  for  dis 
turbing  the  quiet  of  the  camp.     He  claimed  to  be  a  guest  of 
one  of  the  surgeons  and  desired  his  protection,  but  the  latter 
heeded  not  his  appeal.    Then  he  turned  to  another  well-known 
citizen  of  Wayne  county,  and  he  too  denied  any  and  all  ac 
quaintance,  absolutely    refusing    to    recognize    the    incidents 
brought  forward  by  the  visitor,  though  at  last  he  did  allow 
that  he  had  seen  the  arrested  man  drunk  in  Georgetown.    The 
situation  was  becoming  more  involved,  and  the  poor  man's  hair 
was  fairly  standing  on  end  with  fright,  when  he  claimed  to  be 
a  second  cousin  of  one  of  his  tormentors,  who  finally  granted 
that  he  had  seen  the  man  "up  North,"  and  the  boys  ended  the 
farce,  but  the  visitor  never  forgot  the  scare,  nor  the  colored  boy 
the  white  man's  anxiety  to  sleep  with  him. 

The  captain  of  one  of  the  companies,  though  a  brave  officer, 
had  queer  notions  of  what  he  might  exact  of  his  men.  He 
had  bought  a  condemned  government  horse  and  then  tried 
to  keep  him  at  the  expense  of  the  boys,  who  maintained  their 
regular  fund.  He  thought  the  extra  bread  of  the  men  which 
they  were  wont  to  trade  for  milk,  etc.,  would  keep  his  steed 
nicely,  and  so  ordered  them  to  cease  trading;  such  tyranny  was 
resented  of  course,  and  all  hoped  that  something  might  happen 
to  that  horse,  and  eventually  he  appeared  minus  his  switch. 
All  were  happy  but  the  captain,  and  he  was  raging;  but  tho 
perpetrator  of  the  deed  was  not  revealed  till  many  years  after 
the  war.  The  horse  was  disposed  of,  and  the  boys  were  again 
permitted  to  do  as  they  liked  with  their  own. 

In  Fort  Bayard,  Company  F  boys  varied  the  monotony  a 


SOLDIERING  IN  THE  DEFENSES.  71 

little  by  playing  a  practical  joke  on  Lieutenant  L.'s  colored 
steward  Jim.  It  was  about  the  time  when  the  government  was 
organizing  certain  colored  regiments,  and  active  negroes  were 
in  request.  Jim  was  bright,  active  and  good  natured,  and  about 
seventeen  years  old.  He  was  universally  popular,  but  the  sol 
diers  must  have  their  fun.  One  day  in  Washington  he  had 
seen  a  squad  of  colored  soldiers,  armed  and  equipped,  escorting 
some  recruits  to  headquarters.  Somehow  or  other  it  came  into 
his  head  that  they  "just  gobbled  up  ebery  nigger  dat  dey  come 
cross,-'  as  he  put  it.  He  wras  so  frightened  lest  he,  too,  be 
taken,  he  left  his  errand  undone  and  started  for  home  as  fast 
as  his  legs  would  carry  him.  He  told  his  lieutenant  how  he 
had  been  chased  and  that  only  his  superior  swiftness  saved 
him,  and  for  some  time  Washington  errands  were  not  entrusted 
to  Jim,  for  neither  love  nor  money  could  induce  him  to  venture 
near  the  city.  Knowing  his  mortal  terror  the  boys  determined 
to  give  him  the  fright  of  his  life,  and  selecting  a  night  when  the 
lieutenant  was  away  from  his  company,  they  chose  one  of  their 
number  who  wras  well  suited  to  play  the  part,  and  plentifully 
covering  his  face  and  hands  with  burnt  cork,  dressed  him  in  a 
sergeant's  uniform.  Then  they  put  him  into  quarters  near 
those  of  Jim.  The  participants  were  properly  placed,  when  a 
messenger  was  sent  for  Jim,  who  duly  responded.  No  sooner 
had  he  entered  the  door  than  one  of  the  soldiers  said,  "Jim, 
we  are  sorry  to  lose  you,  but  the  time  has  come  when  you  must 
go  to  the  front  and  help  fight  the  rebels."  Jim  looked  anxious 
and  turned  his  big  eyes  about  till  they  seemed  all  whites.  "You 
know  the  government  is  raising  a  colored  regiment  in  Wash 
ington,  and  the  officers  are  taking  every  able-bodied  young 
negro  they  can  find.  Somehow  they  have  learned  that  you  are 
here  as  a  servant  and  that  you  are  trying  to  keep  out  of  their 
sight,  so  the  colonel  has  sent  a  sergeant  after  you.  If  you  do 
not  go,  or  try  to  escape,  he  will  kill  you."  Poor  Jim's  black 
face  was  actually  growing  white  with  misery,  for  he  had  seen 
the  black  sergeant  seated  in  the  farther  end  of  the  quarters. 
At  this  moment  the  sergeant  arose  and  said,  "You  black  rascal, 
I  want  you,  and  if  you  try  to  run  away,  I'll  shoot  you,"  at  the 
same  time  showing  his  pistol.  Jim  asked  permission  to  go  to 
his  tent  to  get  some  articles  of  clothing,  and  was  closely  followed 
by  the  sergeant.  The  earthworks  ran  along  in  front  of  Jim's 
quarters,  and  beyond  them  extended  miles  of  open  fields  and 


72  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

woods.  It  was  expected  that  Jim  would  take  a  chance  of 
escape  here,  and  he  did.  He  cleared  the  works  at  a  bound  and 
made  for  the  woods.  "Halt;"  but  the  only  sound  sent  back 
from  the  darkness  was  the  whack  of  Jim's  big  feet  as  they  bore 
him  with  deerlike  fleetness  to  the  refuge  of  the  forest.  The 
boys  were  certain  that  they  heard  the  clatter  of  his  flight  for 
at  least  five  minutes,  though  their  own  laughter  must  have 
drowned  some  of  the  noise  he  made.  Taps  sounding  soon  after, 
silence  fell  upon  the  camp,  but  the  fugitive  did  not  return  till 
late  the  following  night,  and  for  several  weeks  he  was  in  a  con 
dition  of  constant  alarm.  When,  however,  the  whole  scheme 
was  unfolded  to  him,  he  laughed  as  heartily  as  the  boys  them 
selves. 

All  the  boys  did  not  take  equally  kindly  to  their  rations,  at 
least  till  they  had  become  hardened  somewhat.  As  a  recruit, 
came  a  young  man  of  gentle  rearing,  to  whose  palate  coarse 
army  fare  was  by  no  means  fitted.  The  tin  plate  upon  which 
lay  a  boiled  potato  and  a  big  piece  of  "salt-horse"  or  pork  did 
not  rouse  his  appetite  to  any  great  extent.  Indeed,  his  face 
was  wont  to  assume  an  air  of  disgust,  which  was  extremely 
amusing  to  his  better  inured  comrades,,  whom  nothing  phased. 
One  day  when  a  squad  returned  from  several  hours'  work  at 
road-building  fairly  famished,  and  to  whom  quantity  was  of 
vastly  more  consequence  than  quality,  boiled  hominy  was  the 
chief  item  of  food,  and  it  didn't  take  the  men  long  to  dispose 
of  the  seemingly  scanty  supply.  This  was  particularly  true  of 
B — ,  a  good  but  quite  rough  soldier,  whose  native  bluntness  of 
speech  several  years'  experience  on  the  Erie  canal  had  not 
polished  in  the  least.  His  hunger  was  still  far  from  being  ap 
peased,  and  he  began  to  look  about  for  a  chance,  like  Oliver 
Twist,  to  secure  "more."  There  was  the  poor  recruit  daintily 
tasting  his  coarse  fare,  his  stomach  on  the  verge  of  rejection 
even  then,  while  his  face  wore  its  chronic  "I-wish-I-were-at- 
home"  look.  It  frequently  happened  that  the  hominy  contained 
large  white  worms  having  brown  heads.  The  hungry  soldiers, 
inured  to  all  sorts  of  hardships,  had  learned  long  before  either 
to  shut  their  eyes  when  eating  this  dish  or  to  just  spoon  the 
obnoxious  wiggler  and  eat  what  was  left.  B —  seeing  the  lad' .3 
disgust  chose  him  for  his  victim,  and  approaching  asked  him 
how  he  liked  his  hominy.  To  which  query  came  the  reply  that 
he  didn't  like  it,  he  never  was  used  to  eating  such  stuff.  "Do 


OUT   FOR   FUN. 
Alonzo  Bowen  (I)  and  Michael  Murphy  (I).        "Yank"  Gifford  (F)  and  '"Charley"  Keen  (F). 


SOLDIERING  IX  THE  DEFENSES.  73 

you  find  any  worms  in  your  dish?"  This  terribly  shocked  the 
boy,  and  he  replied,  "No,  did  you?"  "Oh,  yes,"  said  B — ,  "two 
big  ones,"  and  opening  his  mouth,  "Can't  you  see  their  entrails 
between  my  teeth?"  though  he  used  a  much  shorter  and  more 
expressive  word  than  entrails.  Alas  for  the  fastidious  youth, 
who  rushed  out  to  do  what  the  whale  did  when  tired  of  Jonah, 
and  long  before  he  returned  B —  had  saved  him  any  further 
apprehension  as  to  that  special  dish  of  hominy. 

Some  readers  may  recall  the  German,  John  L.,  and  his  reli 
gious  experience  as  already  related.  He  was  a  good  soldier,  al 
ways  in  the  best  of  trim,  his  clothes,,  gun  and  equipment  as 
bright  as  a  new  pin.  He  was  apparently  used  to  the  strictest 
discipline,  and  we  thought  he  had  been  in  the  German 
army.  He  was  far  from  being  a  talkative  man,  rather  stern 
in  his  nature,  always  quiet,  not  much  given  to  joking,  having  a 
violent  temper  when  injured;  on  the  whole,  just  a  little  pecul 
iar.  Of  course  the  boys  liked  to  play  jokes  at  John's  expense. 
One  of  his  peculiarities  was  his  evident  care  for  a  very  fine 
tobacco-box  which  he  carried.  He  chewed  the  fine-cut  variety, 
and  was  exceedingly  chary  in  parting  with  any  of  it  to  his  com 
rades,  who  were  quite  likely  to  ask  for  a  chew.  On  a  certain 
occasion,  one  of  John's  associates,  a  rollicking,  devil-may-care 
sort  of  fellow,  named  Bill  B.,  found  a  nest  of  young  mice  in  his 
quarters;  they  were  quite  innocent  of  covering  and  were  not 
more  than  an  inch  long.  To  Bill's  ingenious  mind  here  was  a 
chance  for  fun,  so  he  says  to  his  bunkies:  "We'll  get  John  L. 
in  here,  and  one  of  you  ask  him  for  a  chew  of  tobacco.  If  he 
complies  pass  the  box  along  to  me,  after  you  have  helped  your 
self,  and  when  I  take  a  chew,  I  will  put  these  two  little  mice 
into  his  box."  The  prospect  was  delightful,  and  John  was  in 
veigled  over  to  the  quarters  of  the  conspirators,  who  were 
ready  for  him,  where,  according  to  programme,  one  of  the  boys, 
Wesley  W.,  asked  John  for  a  taste  of  his  fine-cut.  The  latter 
was  in  an  unusually  gracious  mood,  and  at  once  passed  hie 
cherished  box  to  the  mischievous  fellow,  who  in  turn  handed 
it  to  Bill.  Everything  worked  to  a  charm,  and  the  infant  mice 
were  speedily  and  effectually  hidden  in  the  box,  which,  com 
ing  back  to  its  owner,  was  placed  in  his  pocket,  and  he  soon  re 
turned  to  his  own  quarters  at  the  end  of  the  street.  The  tor 
mentors  anxiously  awaited  developments,  which  were  not  long 
in  coming.  In  about  fifteen  minutes,  they  heard  a  yell  and  an 


74  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

oath,  and  soon  saw  a  mad  Dutchman  coming  for  them;  they 
scattered  like  a  covey  of  partridges,  and  could  not  be  found. 
John  had  opened  his  box  to  take  a  chew,  and  without  looking 
at  what  he  was  doing  picked  up  with  the  tobacco  one  of  the 
live  mice;  but  he  had  not  chewed  the  quid  a  great  while  before 
he  ejected  the  mingled  mass  of  Virginia  weed  and  mouse  with 
the  exhibition  just  described.  The  gang  had  to  steer  clear 
of  him  for  several  days;  indeed  he  never  forgave  Bill  B.,  whom 
he  considered  the  chief  villain  in  the  play,  but  the  officers,  who 
soon  learned  the  story,  and  the  rest  of  the  company  enjoyed 
the  joke  immensely. 

Nor  was  picket  duty  devoid  of  incident,  as  some  of  the  mem 
bers  of  —  Company  could  testify.  The  station  was  possibly  four 
miles  from  the  forts,  and  about  the  soldiers  were  the  farms  of 
men  outwardly  loyal, but  at  heart,  we  thought,  arrant  rebels,  dis 
posed  to  give  the  enemy  every  possible  bit  of  information.  Any 
thing  taken  from  them  was  to  us  very  much  like  "spoiling  the 
Egyptians";  but  Colonel  Morris,  commanding  the  brigade,  was 
a  strict  disciplinarian,  and  all  depredations  were  sternly  frowned 
upon  by  him  and  the  offenders  severely  punished.  On  the 
morning  in  question,  a  bright  one  of  midsummer,  the  boys,  some 
four  in  number,  had  relieved  the  old  pickets  and  soon  began  to 
look  about  for  their  noon-day  meal. 

Near  by  was  a  profusion  of  blackberries,  and  it  didn't  take 
long  to  pick  all  that  the  boys,  including  the  lieutenant  in 
charge,  could  eat;  but  when  was  man  ever  perfectly  satisfied? 
They  must  needs  have  milk  to  add  to  the  sugar  which  their 
haversacks  afforded.  Cows  were  in  the  neighboring  field,  and 
what  more  natural  than  that  Yankee  boys,  proficient  milkers, 
should  undertake  to  extract  their  lacteal  riches.  One  of 
the  soldiers  succeeded  admirably,  for  his  bovine  selection  was 
tractable,  but  the  other  boy  found  his  cow  quite  unwilling  to 
"stand,"  but  persevering  he  had  just  begun  operations  when 
he  heard  a  strange  voice  asking  him  what  he  was  doing.  "I 
guess  you  can  see  easily  enough,"  was  the  careless  reply.  "Well, 
I  shall  report  you  to  the  officer  of  the  picket,"  and  the  wrathful 
owner,  for  such  he  was,  started  off  for  the  post,  the  culprits 
following  closely  behind  him.  True  to  his  threat  he  proceeded 
to  tell  his  story  to  the  lieutenant,  but  at  such  length  that  the 
officer  was  evidently  bored.  The  soldiers,  however,  kept  right 
at  their  eating,  and  so  voraciously  that  Lieutenant  -  -  feared 


SOLDIERING  IN  THE  DEFENSES.  75 

he  might  lose  his  share,  so  saying  to  the  farmer,  "I'll  punish  the 
rascals,"  he  exclaimed  with  considerable  more  emphasis,  "Here, 
I  want  some  of  those  berries  and  milk."  This  so  amazed  the 
irate  Marylander  that  he  started  off,  saying,  "I'll  go  straight 
to  Colonel  Morris  and  report  the  case."  This  he  did  and  the 
next  morning  after  we  had  arrived  in  camp  and  while  we  were 
cleaning  up  our  guns,  the  lieutenant  came  around  in  accord 
ance  with  Colonel  Morris'  order,  and  said,  "You  are  under 
arrest."  One  of  the  boys  said,  "Do  you  arrest  us  for  getting 
berries  and  milk  for  you?"  "Don't  ask  too  many  questions," 
wTas  the  reply.  "Well,"  was  the  rejoinder,  "if  we  do  have  to 
go  up,  you  will  remember  that  you  are  as  deep  in  the  mud 
as  we  are  in  the  mire."  "Don't  worry,"  said  he,  "I'll  get  you 
out  soon;"  and  sure  enough,  in  less  than  an  hour  came  an  order 
from  headquarters  releasing  the  men.  The  story,  however,  does 
not  end  here,  for  it  was  not  long  ere  the  same  men  had  a  chance 
at  the  farmer,  who  was  a  cross,  surly  fellow,  a  fair  type  of  the 
rebel  sympathizers  in  the  vicinity.  In  the  fall,  when  crops 
were  being  harvested,  on  a  dark,  cloudy  day,  the  same  com 
rades  found  themselves  again  near  the  same  informer.  Having 
brought  with  them  salt  pork,  bread  and  coffee,  they  began  to 
look  about  them  for  other  viands.  Close  st  hand  was  the  home 
of  the  farmer,  and  back  of  it  was  a  large  pile  of  potatoes  and 
cabbages.  A  delegation  set  forth  at  once  for  the  farm-house, 
and  while  a  portion  thereof  solicited  the  loan  of  a  big  iron 
kettle  from  the  mistress,  the  other  part  made  free  with  the 
farmer's  winter  supply.  When  the  woman  went  for  the  utensil, 
which  she  thought  it  best  to  lend,  the  marauders  made  off  with 
their  booty,  which  in  due  time  was  cooked  and  eaten,  making 
something  of  an  offset  to  the  rain  which  had  begun  to  fall, 
each  man  consoling  himself  wTith  the  reflection  that  the  vegeta 
bles,  though  stolen  and  consequently  sweet,  scarcely  more  than 
compensated  for  the  disgrace  of  an  arrest,  and  Byron  made 
Mazeppa  say,  "Time  at  last  makes  all  things  even,"  just  as 
applicable  to  Cayuga  county  boys  doing  duty  in  Maryland  as 
to  Cossack  hetman  on  the  Ukrain  plains. 

It  was  during  the  later  portion  of  1863  that  Company  L  was 
organized.  Its  membership  was  more  widely  spread  over  the 
state  than  that  of  any  other  company  in  the  regiment.  It  was 
made  up  largely  of  men  who  had  served  a  full  enlistment  in  the 
two  years'  regiments  sent  out  in  1861.  This  no  doubt  accounts 


76  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

for  the  high  degree  of  proficiency  which  the  company  early 
attained.  Its  first  captain  was  Frank  W.  Sinclair,  promoted 
from  Company  I,  and  its  senior  first  lieutenant  was  S.  Augus 
tus  Howe,  who  had  put  in  two  years  as  a  member  of  the  24th 
New  York  Infantry,  an  Oswego  county  organization.  This  ad 
dition  brought  the  Ninth  up  to  its  full  number  of  companies, 
and  the  recruits,  rapidly  coming  in,  soon  filled  the  regiment 
to  its  maximum.  The  men  as  they  joined  were  sent  to  Fort 
Simmons,  which  became  the  station  of  the  company  till  ordered 
to  move  across  the  Eastern  Branch.  Here  they  began  the 
regular  drill  and  routine  duty  to  which  the  other  companies 
had  long  been  subjected.  The  size  of  the  company  sometimes 
made  sitting  at  the  mess-table  quite  crowded,  but  old  soldiers 
were  ready  to  endure  such  a  small  affliction  without  much 
complaint,  especially  as  a  crowded  table  was  better  than  none 
at  all. 

1864. 

Ere  the  year  was  ended,  the  monotony  of  camp-life  was  to  be 
sadly  marred,  but  before  the  stated  May-day,  came  numerous 
weeks  of  routine.  January  1st  found  many  of  the  soldiers  in 
possession  of  luxuries  of  all  sorts,  sent  down  to  them  from  their 
northern  homes,  remainders  in  some  cases  of  Christmas  feasts, 
while  others  were  looking  for  delayed  boxes.  One  man  in  a 
mixed  manner  grumbles  thus  in  his  diary  in  early  '64  days: 
"Turkeys  came.  C.  got  three  months,  ball  and  chain,  for  sleep 
ing  on  his  post.  New  recruit  and  in  poor  health."  Early  in 
January  it  is  necessary  to  break  up  certain  liquor-selling  places 
in  Georgetown.  In  the  wealth  of  edibles  some  of  the  boys  in 
Company  B  have  a  big  dinner,  with  printed  invitations.  Happy 
the  man  who  has  preserved  one  of  them  to  this  day.  All  this 
time  many  recruits  are  coming  down  to  join  the  regiment,  and, 
poor  fellows,  some  of  them  think  they  get  a  cool  reception, 
for  on  the  9th  one  man  says,  "It  was  so  cold  that  coffee  froze 
in  our  cups  before  we  could  drink  it."  Nothing  but  the  writer's 
uniform  veracity  warrants  this  insertion,  and  even  now  incre 
dulity  justifies  a  suspicion  that,  set  out  to  cool,  the  liquid  may 
have  been  left  unduly  long.  On  the  15th  eighty  recruits  appear. 
There  is  really  little  stirring  during  the  month,  save  the  arrival 
of  new  men  and  cook-house  bickerings,  of  which  every  camp 
is  sure  to  have  its  part. 


A  GENERAL   SHAKING-UP.  77 

In  February,  owing  to  a  sinall-pox  scare,  vaccination  was 
the  order  of  the  day,  and,  "Look  out  for  my  sore  arm,"  was  not 
infrequently  heard.  Even  the  most  calloused  diary-keeper 
could  not  find  material  for  his  small  pages,  except  as  he  re 
counted  the»books  and  papers  read,  the  letters  written  and  re 
ceived.  Full  many  a  love-match  was  made  during  these  winter 
days,  and  in  rough,  noisy  barracks  the  most  delightful  visions 
were  had  of  home  and  happiness  to  follow,  "when  this  cruel 
war  is  over."  But  cold  or  warm,  bleak  or  pleasant,  picket 
and  guard  duty  came  round  with  unvarying  regularity,  and  a 
good  soldier,  later  to  fall  at  Cold  Harbor,  is  sent  in  under  arrest 
because  as  corporal  he  failed  to  turn  out  with  the  guard  quick 
ly  enough.  Then  came  the  second  March  for  the  dispiriting 
of  the  soldiers,  but  there  are  many  Mark  Tapleys  among  them 
whom  weather  influenced  very  little.  The  25th  of  February 
brought  around  an  alarm,  and  Fort  Simmons  was  quickly 
manned,  but  as  usual  it  was  a  false  alarm.  It  is  highly  credit 
able  to  the  rank  and  file  of  the  Ninth  Heavy  that  a  good  audi 
ence  gathered,  March  3d,  at  headquarters  to  hear  a  George 
town  preacher,  Brown  by  name,  lecture  on  "The  Martyr  Trans 
lators  of  the  Bible."  Is  there  any  wonder  that  such  men,  when 
the  test  came,  gave  a  good  account  of  themselves?  Later  still, 
in  the  same  place,  an  equally  large  and  appreciative  audience 
heard  an  eloquent  discourse  on  temperance. 


CHAFTEK     X. 

A  GENERAL  SHAKING-UP. 

The  advent  of  General  Grant  in  Washington  and  his  subse 
quent  presence  in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  were  making  a 
decided  impression  on  all  wearers  of  the  blue.  The  changes 
in  location  of  Companies  C,  D,  E  and  G  have  already  been 
noted.  Corresponding  activity  was  also  true  of  the  other  com 
panies.  All  of  them  took  leave  of  their  long-time  quarters,  and 
on  the  26th  of  March  made  their  way  to  the  forts  across  the 
Eastern  Branch,  all  this  in  accordance  with  General  Orders 
No.  21,  whereby  the  regiment,  except  the  2d  Battalion,  was  di 
rected  to  form  line  in  the  parade  ground  at  Fort  Simmons  at  4.30 
A.  M.  the  26th,,  having  two  days'  cooked  rations,  Company  B 


78  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

to  join  at  the  junction  of  Military  and  Georgetown  roads.  The 
march  began  at  daybreak,  and  was  a  cheerful  variation  on  the 
long  monotony  of  the  forts,  passing,  as  it  did,  through  Wash 
ington  and  across  the  bridge  which  spanned  the  Eastern 
Branch,  sometimes  called  the  Navy  Yard  bridge.  Whence  there 
was  a  decided  scattering  of  the  companies,  a  large  number  of 
forts  coming  under  their  care  as  follows :  A  at  Fort  Baker,  with 
the  band  and  regimental  headquarters;  B,  Fort  Mahan;  F,  Forts 
Dupont,  Wagner  and  Ricketts,  with  Lieutenants  Allen,  Pat 
terson  and  Stafford,  respectively,  in  charge;  H,  Fort  Meigs; 
I,  Forts  Snyder  and  Davis,  with  Captain  Hughes  and  Lieu 
tenant  Howard  commanding;  K,  Fort  Greble;  L,  Fort  Stanton; 
M,  Fort  Carroll.  Of  this  range  Fort  Mahan  was  the  most 
northerly,  and  was  fully  seven  miles  away  from  Greble,  the 
most  southerly  position.  At  this  time  the  1st  Battalion  com 
prised  the  men  in  Forts  Baker,  Davis,  Dupont,  Meigs  and 
Mahan,  under  Major  Snyder,  with  headquarters  at  Fort  Mahan. 
The  3d  Battalion  included  the  other  forts  under  Major  Burgess, 
with  headquarters  at  Fort  Carroll.  The  2d  Battalion  was  still 
in  Fort  Foote,  so  the  regiment  was  really  in  a  line  of  forts  ex 
tending  a  distance  of  quite  eleven  miles,  though  communica 
tion  between  Fort  Foote  and  the  other  fortifications  was  by 
water  rather  than  by  land.  By  this  latest  move,  the  Ninth  was 
made  to  have  something  to  do,  first  and  last,  with  nearly  every 
fort  on  the  Maryland  side  of  the  Potomac.  The  life  for  the 
next  two  months,  in  each  fort,  differed  very  little  from  that  in 
another,  nor  from  that  in  the  forts  recently  left  near  the  river, 
though  there  were  incidents  peculiar  to  each  one,  as  at  Fort 
Mahan  Lieutenant  Chauncey  Fish,  just  promoted  from  orderly 
sergeant,  was  given  a  fine  sword  by  Company  B;  he  had  only 
recently  returned  from  a  visit  home,  and  with  him  came,  as  re 
cruits,  two  of  his  sons,  one  of  whom  was  to  later  fall  at  Win 
chester.  As  this  was  a  company  affair,  Sergeant  Smith  made 
the  presentation,  and  Sergeant  Brock  read  a  reply.  The 
weapon  cost  $100.  In  this  same  fort,  later  in  April,  a  daughter 
of  Ebenezer  Page  opened  a  school  in  the  mess-house  at  fifty 
cents  per  pupil,  weekly.  Towards  the  end  of  the  month  cer 
tain  companies  were  canvassed  by  cavalry-men  seeking  those 
who  would  like  to  be  transferred.  The  outlook  towards  the 
Capitol  from  nearly  all  these  forts  is  fine,  and  it  is  easier  mak 
ing  a  visit  to  Washington  than  it  was  before  the  move.  Not 


A  GENERAL   SHAKING-UP.  79 

a  day  was  lost  in  active  drill,  and  if  the  regiment  Is  not  profi 
cient  in  infantry,  heavy  and  light  artillery  practice,  it  is  not 
the  fault  of  the  officers.  Battalion  drill  necessitates  long  and 
occasionally  hot  marches  for  some  of  the  companies.  May 
brings  with  it  the  consciousness  that  the  North  will  soon  take 
a  new  departure,  and  that  for  the  front.  Packing  up  all  that  a 
man  thought  he  could  not  conveniently  carry,  was  the  order  of 
the  day,  and  it  was  surprising  how  many  things  were  dispensed 
with,  but  two  weeks  later  the  reduction  of  baggage  was  even 
greater  still.  Two  Wayne  county  boys  thought  to  lessen  their 
portable  library,  and  so  made  up  a  box  to  send  home,  in  which 
they  placed  their  copies  of  Virgil,  Horace,  Longfellow  (2  vols.), 
Methodist  Hymns,  etc.,  determining  to  depend  on  memory  for 
any  classical  or  poetical  necessity,  and  also  throwing  in  two 
or  three  bed-quilts  and  a  pair  of  boots,  they  sent  it  northward. 
How  carefully  the  mother  of  one  of  those  boys  treasured  the  col 
lection,  till  the  close  of  the  war  brought  home  the  literary 
soldiers!  On  the  7th  of  May  was  promulgated  an  order  specify 
ing  what  the  soldiers  might  carry  in  their  knapsacks,  viz.,  one 
shirt,  one  pair  socks,  one  pair  extra  shoes,  one  pair  pants,  one 
rubber-blanket,  one  overcoat.  It  did  not  take  long,  when  march 
ing  actually  began,  to  get  rid  of  nearly  all  the  above-named 
necessities. 

In  the  ranks  of  this  immense  aggregation  of  men  were  hun 
dreds  who  had  recently  joined.  They  had  come  down  from 
northern  homes,  rallied  by  the  nation's  cry  for  more  soldiers; 
very  many,  indeed  the  large  majority  of  them,  were  lads  in  their 
teens,  who  three  years  before  were  too  young  for  enlistment. 
They  represented  nearly  all  vocations,  but  by  far  the  greater 
number  came  from  the  farm.  They  represented  the  same  ele 
ment  that,  nearly  a  hundred  years  before,  had  fought  for  free 
dom  from  Britain's  yoke.  Many,  assigned  to  companies  and 
taking  their  guns,  essayed  the  life  of  an  active  soldier  with  no 
drill  at  all.  What  they  learned  of  the  use  of  their  weapons  in 
parade  or  in  action,  was  from  observation.  That  they  did  not 
particularly  mar  the  prospects  of  the  regiment  is  evident  in  the 
sequel.  Ere  many  weeks  they  were  bearing  their  burdens 
and  doing  their  respective  duties  with  as  much  ease  and  cool 
ness  as  the  veriest  veteran  by  their  side. 

May  10th  came  another  moving  day;  this  time  retracing  the 
steps  across  the  Branch  and  through  the  city  to  the  Virginia 


80  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

side  of  the  Potomac.  Heavy  Artillery  regiments  are  succeeded, 
largely,  by  100-day  men,  sent  in  from  Ohio,  Pennsylvania  and 
Massachusetts,  but  our  immediate  successors  are,  in  the  main, 
from  the  10th  N.  Y.  H.  A.,  and  we  ourselves  follow  other 
heavy  artillery  regiments  that  have  gone  ahead.  For  the 
march,  Companies  A,  B,  H,  F,  and  I  in  part,  report  at  Fort  Baker, 
and  the  remainder  of  I,  with  L,  M  and  K,  join  at  the  bridge. 
There  was  no  special  incident  in  the  transit,  save  that  the 
horses  of  a  coach  near  the  eastern  end  of  the  Eastern  Branch 
bridge  having  no  ears  for  music,  became  frightened  at  our 
band,  and  bolting  short  about  turned  the  coach  completely 
over,  spilling  the  passengers,  but  fortunately  not  harming  any 
one.  With  drums  beating  and  flags  flying  we  marched  over 
the  plaza  to  the  east  of  the  Capitol,  by  the  south  end  of  said 
magnificent  structure,  and  along  Pennsylvania  avenue,  all  un 
conscious  of  our  destination.  Some  said  we  were  going  back 
to  the  old  forts,  others  said  "the  front,"  and  when  we  marched 
out  upon  Long  Bridge,  we  were  quite  certain  we  were  to  have 
some  experience  in  Virginia.  Company  L  veterans  recall,  as 
they  neared  Unionville  and  the  band  played  a  lively  air,  a  fine 
high-headed  horse  prancing  to  the  music,  but  as  they  neared 
him,  they  saw  he  was  moving  on  three  legs  only,  but  in  perfect 
time.  The  familiar  government  brand  "I.  C."  on  his  flank,  told 
of  battle-strife  and  his  appreciation  of  marching  music.  Though 
only  a  horse,  preserved  for  the  good  he  had  done,  he  was  greeted 
with  hearty  cheers. 

While  new  regiments  were  constantly  forming  and  a  man 
counted  for  as  much  in  one  of  them  as  in  the  other  organiza 
tions,  there  were  considerations  of  locality  that  frequently  de 
termined  the  body  wherein  the  recruit  was  to  serve.  If  he 
were  not  too  intent  upon  getting  a  commission  immediately, 
if  he  were  only  modestly  ambitious,  he  found  the  regiments 
already  in  the  service  better  for  him  than  those  whose  record 
was  all  before  them.  Hence  the  numbers  that  had  enlisted 
in  Auburn  and  in  the  old  barracks  there  had  received  an  intro 
duction  to  soldier's  life.  The  winter  of  1863  and  '64,  spent  in 
that  place,  has  a  considerable  space  in  the  memories  of  many 
a  Ninth  survivor.  There  were  some  men  considerably  beyond 
the  age  of  service,  but  by  discriminating  lying  and  the  barber's 
art,  they  manage  to  pass  muster.  On  the  whole,  the  accessions 
to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  at  the  beginning  of  the  Battle 


A  GENERAL   SHAKING-UP.  81 

Summer  added  much  to  its  strength.  At  first  they  met  some 
chaff  from  the  older  soldiers,  but  in  the  line  of  duty  all  differ 
ences  disappeared,  and  before  Cold  Harbor  was  reached,  only 
the  closest  scrutiny  could  have  told  who  were  the  old  and  who 
the  new.  As  usual,  our  party  was  a  large  one,  and  we  could 
not  all  stop  at  one  fort,  so  we  were  distributed,  A,  F  and  M 
to  Fort  Richardson,  which  became  the  headquarters;  B  and  I 
went  to  Fort  Barnard;  H,  to  Fort  Garrische;  K,  to  Fort  Berry, 
and  L,  to  Fort  Scott.  The  "boys"  of  the  latter  company  ever 
dilate  on  the  terror  of  rats  in  this  stronghold.  They  had  to 
sleep  in  the  bomb-proofs,  and  life,  waking  or  sleeping,  was  a 
warfare  with  the  rodents,  which  stole  their  food  at  all  times 
and  made  nights  hideous  by  walking  over  the  sleeping  soldiers, 
one  of  whom  declared,  as  between  rebs  and  rats,  he  preferred 
the  former.  The  regiment  is  again  as  nearly  united  as  it  can 
be  in  so  many  forts.  The  2d  Battalion  that  came  up  from 
Fort  Foote  on  the  same  day  found  itself  placed  with  C,  D  and 
G  in  Fort  Ward,  and  E  in  Fort  Reynolds,  the  former  companies 
making  a  long  detour  by  way  of  Long  Bridge  and  not  reach 
ing  the  fort  till  nearly  midnight.  The  distance  of  Fort  Ward 
from  Alexandria  is  not  more  than  four  nor  less  than  three  miles, 
but  the  men  marched  twelve  miles  to  get  there.  One  of  them 
tersely  remarks  in  his  journal,  "Military." 

Our  move  was  more  "military."  The  1st  Connecticut 
Heavy  Artillery  vacated  many  of  the  forts  as  the  Ninth  moved 
in.  Over  the  main  entrance  to  Fort  Richardson  the  soldiers 
had  left,  in  large  letters,  the  Latin  motto  of  the  Wooden  Nut 
meg  State,  viz.,  "Qui  transtulit  sustinet"  which  some  boys 
just  from  school  were  able  to  render  to  their  fellows  as,  "Who 
brought  us,  will  sustain."  For  once  we  thought  the  sentiment 
quite  as  good  as  our  New  York's  "Excelsior."  Fairfax  Semi 
nary  was  near.  Daily  picket-guard  was  maintained,  but  there 
was  very  little  stability,  since  on  the  loth,  Companies  B  and 
L  were  ordered  to  Fort  Worth,  still  further  south.  The  very 
next  day  there  was  an  inspection  at  Fort  Richardson,  just  to 
see  how  quickly  the  men  could  move.  With  the  exception  of 
men  on  duty  in  the  forts,  and  so  could  not  report,  this  was  the 
first  time  for  the  men  of  the  Ninth  to  assemble  in  a  body.  Dur 
ing  these  days  active  boys  are  scouring  the  neighboring  coun 
try  for  adventure  and  sights.  The  wounded  from  the  Wilder 
ness  are  filling  the  Seminary  Hospital,  and  thither  many  go, 
6 


82  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

both  from  curiosity  and  possibly  to  see  wounded  friends  from 
other  regiments;  when  there,  few  failed  to  climb  to  the  steeple 
of  the  seminary  to  get  the  fine  view  it  afforded.  This  seminar}' 
was  and  is  an  Episcopal  theological  school.  Arlington  is  not 
so  very  far  away,  and  the  building  and  grounds  filled  with 
memories  of  the  Lee  family  are  thoroughly  inspected.  Many 
a  letter  carried  to  northern  homes  floral  souvenirs  from  the 
Arlington  flower  gardens.  Camp  distribution  comes  in  for  a 
visit,  and  Camp  Chase,  where  the  first  stop  was  made  nearly 
two  years  before,  is  also  quite  near. 

The  night  of  May  17  is  a  long  one  to  many,  for  certain  com 
panies  are  under  arms  or  on  the  march  nearly  every  moment 
of  it,  for  all  have  been  ordered  to  report  at  Fort  Richardson 
very  early.  Shelter-tents  have  been  added  to  our  outfit,  and 
we  are  ready  to  go.  It  is  scarcely  more  than  morning  on  May 
18  when  we  enter  Alexandria,  2000  strong,  and  go  upon  trans 
ports,  the  great  mass  of  us  quite  ignorant  of  our  destination. 
Steamers  John  Brooks,  John  W.  D.  Prouty  and  the  State  of 
Connecticut  bear  us  away  and  down  the  river.  Lost  sleep  is 
sought  upon  the  deck  floors,  and  those  who  desire  amusement 
find  it  in  cards  and  other  diversions.  The  tolling  of  the  ship's 
bell  as  we  passed  Mt.  Vernon  called  up  reflections  that  possi 
bly  the  Father  of  his  Country  might  not  be  pleased  if  he  knew 
in  what  disorder  his  children  were.  Late  in  the  afternoon  we 
reach  Belle  Plain  Landing  at  the  mouth  of  the  Potomac  creek, 
and  soon  go  ashore  in  the  midst  of  a  drenching  rain,  though 
to  make  room  for  our  boat  another,  filled  with  rebel  prisoners, 
is  obliged  to  move  out.  The  Johnnies  are  dirty  and  saucy. 
Some  one  suggests  that  these  qualities  are  usually  joined.  Some 
of  the  boys,  recruits,  pitch  their  first  tents  here,  and  try  to  dry 
off  by  means  of  camp-fires.  There  is  a  hospital  transport  at 
the  dock,  and  some  of  our  number  are  borne  thereon  to  be 
taken  back  for  treatment. 

The  rain  continues,  and  during  the  following  night  our  ears 
are  treated  to  the  sound  of  distant  cannonading,  a  part  of  that 
"wild  diapason  of  war"  which  Grant  had  inaugurated  earlier 
in  the  month,  and  to  which  our  ears  were  to  become  so  much 
accustomed.  The  next  day,  the  19th,  in  the  morning  Companies 
H,  I  and  L  started  for  Fredericksburg  in  charge  of  a  wagon- 
train,  reaching  there  at  about  10  P.  M.  Company  D  followed 
in  the  afternoon  and  camped  east  of  the  Rappahannock.  Each 


A  GENERAL   SHAKING-UP.  83 

man  was  again  his  own  cook.  On  this  day  a  party  of  rebel  prison 
ers  passed  through  the  camp,  and  went  aboard  a  boat  bound  for 
some  northern  prison.  Draw  six  days'  rations.  While  we  were 
lying  at  this  point  some  of  us  saw  Colonel  Welling  and  Lieuten 
ant  Colonel  Seward  go  aboard  a  transport  and  soon  steam 
away  towards  Washington.  Naturally  we  said  to  each  other, 
"What's  up!"  A  few  days  later  we  learned  what  it  all  meant. 
Those  who  roamed  over  Belle  Plain  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  derived  its  name  by  the  law  of  contraries,  for  it  was 
anything  but  attractive.  The  shores  were  composed  of  con 
glomerated  shells  not  unlike  the  coquina  of  Florida.  Still 
pleasures  were  found  even  there,  for  the  bathing  was  good, 
though  some  roguish  fellows  suggested  sharks.  Many  a  sol 
dier  will  recall  how  very  cheap  shad  were,  and  how  gloriously 
he  fried  them  on  his  tin  plate,  which  became  at  once  griddle 
and  trencher.  To  their  unsophisticated  taste,  the  result  of 
their  cooking  was  every  whit  as  appetizing  as  were  the  famous 
planked  shad  cooked  by  Daniel  Webster  himself. 

We  were  not  to  march  hungry  nor  unarmed,  for  all  started 
away  from  Belle  Plain  with  six  days'  rations  and  forty  rounds 
of  cartridges,  quite  a  load  in  itself.  Five  companies  left  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  20th — Companies  A  and  K  the  following 
morning,  and  G  at  noon  on  the  22d.  This  going  to  the  front 
was  a  new  experience  to  most  of  the  men,  and  it  did  not  take 
long  to  lessen  the  baggage  which  the  special  order  had  named 
as  necessary.  Hundreds  said,  "If  we  only  had  these  blankets 
at  home,  how  nice  it  would  be,  but  they  are  a  nuisance  here," 
and  off  they  would  go  from  the  knapsacks.  The  days  were  very 
warm  and  the  burden  great.  Seemingly,  there  was  no  mo 
ment  when  some  one  could  not  be  seen  in  the  act  of  throwing 
away  something,  till  our  line  of  march  was  effectually  indicated 
by  tons  of  cast  away  apparel.  One  captain,  of  a  very  saving 
nature,  had  his  feelings  hurt  by  so  much  wastefulness,  and 
he  did  his  best  to  carry  a  part  of  the  stuff  thus  discarded,  and 
was  laughed  at  for  his  pains;  even  he  had  to  yield  finally  and 
drop  his  extra  burden.  In  their  extremity,  some  men  threw 
away,  at  once,  knapsack  and  all  it  contained.  Others  reduced 
it  by  degrees,  while  still  others  made  a  roll  of  what  they  deemed 
most  precious  and,  with  joined  ends,  bore  it  over  one  shoulder. 
Every  one  felt  it  necessary  to  sacrifice  something,  and  a  New 
York  old-clothes  man  could  have  made  his  fortune  on  the 


84  NINTH  NEW  YOEK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

material  with  which  our  way  was  strewn.  What  we  did  was 
done  by  every  new  regiment,  and  the  acres  between  the  land 
ing  and  city  became  the  temporary  depository  of  our  own  and 
government  possessions  in  fabulous  quantities.  If  those  in 
authority  had  only  told  us  what  we  really  needed  and  what 
we  had  best  leave  behind,  how  much  better  it  had  been  for  all ; 
but  the  mere  waste  of  property  was  of  small  consideration, 
and  our  officers  were  just  as  inexperienced  as  their  men. 

The  route  itself  was  through  a  veritable  land  of  desolation. 
Whatever  it  may  have  been  in  the  past,  three  years  of  war  had 
swept  off  everything  that  made  life  worth  living.  If  there 
were  inhabitants,  like  some  rodents  they  must  have  burrowed. 
On  our  way  we  met  an  ambulance  conveying  wounded  from 
the  front  to  the  landing.  Among  them  were  many  from  the 
1st  Maine,  long  our  neighbors  in  the  defenses.  They  had  had 
their  baptism  of  blood,  and  had  made  a  glorious  record.  While 
camping  and  waiting  for  the  other  companies,  it  is  said  that 
Captain  Gregory  of  B  was  bitten  in  the  temple  by  a  rattle 
snake,  and  that  this  contributed  to  his  death  at  Cold  Harbor 
more  than  the  wound  received  there.  At  noon  or  a  little  past, 
the  last  company,  except  G,  also  guarding  a  wagon-train,  came 
up  and  had  a  sight  of  the  Rappahannock  and  Fredericksburg. 
Some  veterans  who  had  first  gone  out  in  1861  retained  vivid 
recollections  of  their  long  day  on  Stafford  Heights,  and  it  was 
just  a  renewal  of  old  acquaintances,  but  to  the  majority  all 
was  new.  The  words  had  long  been  very,  very  familiar,  and 
now  we  were  having  the  realities  that  went  with  those  words. 
Head-boards  here  and  there  told  of  the  dead  in  the  long  days 
of  '62  and  '63,  when  Burnside  and  Hooker,  staking  their  for 
tunes  lost. 

The  noteworthy  hamlet  of  Falmouth  is  at  our  right,,  and  oppo 
site  is  Fredericksburg,  with  its  ragged  steeples  and  yawning 
walls,  its  ruined  bridges  and  bullet-marred  houses.  We  are 
standing  on  land  that  may  have  belonged  to  Washington,  and 
before  us  may  be  the  very  spot,  on  the  river's  bank,  where  the 
youthful  athlete  stood  when  he  made  that  famous  throw  of  u 
silver  dollar  across  the  Rappahannock.  While  waiting  by  the 
river,  some  of  the  men  crossed  over  and  found  the  city  one 
great  hospital.  The  Wilderness  and  Spottsylvania  were  only 
a  few  miles  away,  and  the  wounded  from  these  terrible  fields 
were  here  by  the  thousands.  The  scenes  of  the  amputating 


REACHING   THE   FRONT.  85 

tables  were  not  calculated  to  inspire  the  young  men,  who  were 
to  soon  experience  similar  dangers.  So  absorbed  were  they  in 
the  bloody  present,  they  had  little  disposition  to  think  of  the 
city's  past,  but  had  they  been  inclined,  they  might  have  found 
the  Masonic  Lodge  room  in  which  Washington  was  initiated 
just  before  he  was  of  age,  and  the  very  Bible  on  which  he  laid 
his  hands,  i.  e.,  if  they  had  been  disposed  to  break  in.  In  the 
northern  part  of  the  city,  they  might  have  found  the  home  of 
Washington's  mother,  the  very  house  in  which  she  breathed 
her  last,  and  where  her  distinguished  son  often  visited  her, 
and  a  little  to  the  westward  her  grave  with  the  marble  monu 
ment  by  its  side,  for  it  was  never  reared.  All  this  the  boys 
might  have  seen,  but  probably  no  one  did.  Their  thoughts 
were  quite  too  prosaic  and  practical  for  historic  reminders,  and 
besides  the  school-master  was  not  with  them. 


CHAPTER     XL 

REACHING  THE  FRONT. 

Though  we  are  standing  on  the  margin  of  the  river,  though 
the  city  before  us  was  filled  with  dead  and  wrounded,  and 
though  the  sound  of  distant  artillery  was  frequent,  we  were  not 
as  yet  at  that  ever  movable  point  known  as  the  Front.  For 
several  days  we  wrere  to  continue  to  be, only  an  isolated  regi 
ment  guarding  a  wagon-train,  which  some  of  the  boys  confi 
dently  asserted  was  forty  miles  long.  There  were  several  hun 
dred  wagons  in  the  train.  At  2  P.  M.  we  march  down  and 
across  the  river,  for  the  first  time,  in  hundreds  of  instances,  on 
a  pontoon  bridge.  We  almost  envied  the  natty  sailors  who  sat 
in  several  of  the  boats  doing  some  kind  of  guard-duty;  they 
looked  so  clean  and  neat  when  contrasted  with  our  soiled  uni 
forms,  and  we  were  only  beginning.  We  had  hardly  more  than 
passed  through  the  city  when  we  were  halted  near  Marye's 
Heights,  once  flaming  wTith  rebel  fire,  and  in  time  to  be  the  cem 
etery  of  so  many  loyal  dead,  and  waited  a  while.  During  the 
interval  a  thunder-storm  coming  up,  some  of  the  boys  put 
up  their  shelter-tents,  and  then  was  shown  just  how  many  per 
sons  could  get  under  that  diminutive  canvas;  "seven  or  eight" 
.is  one  record,  and  one  of  those  men  insisted  on  keeping  his 


86  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

feet  dry  also.  That  night  we  had  our  first  specimen  of  march 
ing  in  the  dark.  There  were  no  "taps"  for  us,  though  at  mid 
night  or  thereabouts  we  were  halted  and  permitted  to  lie  down. 
Of  course  when  eleven  large  companies  were  strung  along  sev 
eral  miles,  the  same  hour  would  not  apply  to  all.  The  grass 
was  very  wet,  and  we  had  thrown  away  that  which  would  now 
make  us  comfortable.  Happy  the  boys  who  have  retained  their 
rubber-blankets  and  shelter-tents,  for  two  men  could  place  a 
poncho,  rubber  side  down  on  the  ground,  then  lay  one-half  the 
shelter  on  that,  making  with  knapsack  (when  saved)  for  pillow, 
a  fair  "shake-down."  For  covering,  the  order  of  tent  and  blank 
et  was  reversed.  By  lying  very  closely  together,  two  partners 
could  get  along  very  well  through  a  Virginia  night,  but  alas 
for  the  lad  who  had  nothing,  whose  improvidence  had  left  him 
overcoatless  and  blanket  less! 

For  him  there  was  no  refuge  but  the  camp-fire,  and  then  when 
was  he  to  sleep?  That  first  night  developed  many  a  case  of 
latent  rheumatism,  and  the  ambulance  bore  several  away  to 
wards  Washington  the  next  day,  among  them  one  whose  first 
night  in  this  campaign  was  very  near  his  last,  for  he  returned 
to  his  company  in  the  valley,  only  to  fall  the  following  day  at 
Cedar  Creek.  However  sad  to  the  sufferers  themselves,  to 
those  comfortably  ensconced  between  their  rubber-blankets, 
the  fretting  and  fuming,  not  to  say  swearing,  of  the  poor  men 
so  dolefully  moving  about  was  extremely  funny.  Sympathy 
is  a  queer  characteristic,  and  like  love  the  subjects  are  unex- 
plainable.  Day  and  night  we  were  in  expectation  of  attack 
from  some  quarter.  That  ubiquitous  leader,  Moseby,  was  fan 
cied  to  be  near  us;  indeed,  he  seemed  to  partake  of  the  super 
natural  quality  of  omnipresence,  and  we  tried  to  be  correspond 
ingly  alert.  One  chronicler  claims  that  a  guerrilla  attack  was 
made  during  the  march  on  one  part  of  the  train,  and  215  of  the 
army  were  captured,  but  our  train  was  a  long  one,  whatever 
the  story.  The  morning  of  the  22d  found  some  of  us  again 
trudging  our  weary  way,  but  we  were  not  too  tired  to  appre 
ciate  the  beautiful  sight  afforded  by  our  white-topped  wagons 
as  they  wound  sinuously  along  the  tree-bordered,  crooked  Vir 
ginia  roads.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  there  were  wagons 
loaded  with  comforts  and  necessities  for  the  soldiers  in  the 
trenches.  Tf  all  the  swearing  done  by  the  drivers  of  those 
wicked  mules  was  taken  down  by  the  recording  angel,  the. 


REACHING  THE   FRONT.  87 

record  must  have  been  far  longer  than  that  made  by  our  "Army 
in  Flanders."  We  caught  only  the  "yea  mules"  with  accom 
panying  profanity  that  was  exploded  in  our  immediate  vicin 
ity.  The  land  itself  had  been  thoroughly  impoverished  by  to 
bacco  culture.  While  we  did  not  march  very  far  on  the  22d, 
the  hot  weather  and  our  want  of  experience  made  the  distance 
seem  long. 

That  war  is  not  Sunday-school  was  forcibly  evidenced  re 
peatedly  this  day  through  the  pillaging  of  private  houses,  al 
ways  on  account  of  provocation  given,  at  least  it  was  so 
claimed.  Sometimes  articles  of  value  were  carried  a  long  dis 
tance  only  to  be  thrown  away  at  last.  "If  I  only  had  this  at 
home,"  rang  through  many  a  man's  head,  and  he  accordingly 
added  to  his  burdens  by  carrying  for  a  ways  a  prized  piece  of 
booty,  but  he  would  soon  tire  of  it.  In  this  way  a  big  family 
Bible  was  thrown  down  and  picked  up  a  dozen  times  by  as  many 
different  soldiers.  If  Napoleon's  men  threw  away  treasure- 
chests  in  the  retreat  from  Moscow,,  there  is  little  wonder  that 
ours  retained  little  else  than  what  they  could  eat.  Our  camp 
was  near  Guinea  Station.  The  first  noteworthy  place  encoun 
tered  was  Bowling  Green,  reached  on  the  23d,  the  county  seat 
of  Caroline  county,  to  be  made  famous  for  all  time  in  the  com 
ing  April,  for  there  on  the  21st,  in  one  of  the  barns  we  are  now 
passing  perhaps,  Boston  Corbett  would  shoot  the  assassin, 
Wilkes  Booth. 

However  sad  to  the  antiquarian,  many  exceedingly  valuable 
papers  long  treasured  in  the  court  house  were  that  day  by 
thoughtless  men  given  to  the  wind,  or  as  widely  scattered  as 
the  next  mail  to  the  North  could  send  them.  Said  M—  -  of 
Company  K:  "I  saw  to-day  the  signature  of  George  the  II 
affixed  to  a  grant  of  land  in  this  county.  It  ought  to  have  been 
saved,  but  it  wasn't."  Some  houses  were  entered  and  furniture 
was  injured,  but  mainly  on  account  of  what  the  boys  termed 
"rebel  sass."  The  Confederates  had  left  only  the  day  before, 
and  we  saw  their  signal-station  in  a  tree.  One  Yankee  of 
inquiring  mind  finds  that  flour  here  is  worth,  in  Confederate 
script,  $300  a  barrel,  and  corn  $60  a  basket.  Near  here  we 
passed  a  regiment  of  colored  troops,  the  first  many  of  us  had 
seen.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  good-natured  guying  as  we 
marched  along,  some  of  our  men  being  inclined  to  doubt  their 
soldierly  qualities.  Later  all  learned  better.  Among  the  offi- 


88  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

cers  of  these  troops.  Company  B  boys  found  a  former  comrade, 
Andrew  J.  Raynor,  now  a  lieutenant  commanding  a  company. 

Lieutenant  Fish  of  B  compelled  a  secesh  citizen  who  had  offered 
some  insulting  remarks  to  retract  and  apologize.  This  was  near 
nightfall,  and  for  some  distance  we  marched  by  the  light  of 
burning  houses,  destroyed  by  the  colored  soldiers  in  revenge 
for  an  insulting  answer  made  by  a  man  to  a  polite  request  for 
a  drink,  "I  won't  give  anything  to  a  damned  nigger."  He  had 
fared  better  if  he  had  held  his  tongue  and  granted  the  request. 
At  night  we  camped  near  Milford  station,  and  it  was  claimed 
that  traces  of  the  departed  enemy  were  only  too  prominent, 
for  they  had  failed  to  take  all  their  "Gray  Backs"  with  them. 
This  is  a  station  on  the  Richmond  &  Fredericksburg  railroad 
forty  miles  from  the  former  city  and  twenty-one  from  Fred 
ericksburg.  During  the  night  our  rest  was  disturbed  by  the 
arrival  of  Colonel  Seward,  band  and  drum  corps,  who  had 
left  Belle  Plain  on  the  22d,  reaching  Fredericksburg  at  9  P.  M. 

The  next  day,  pushing  along,  they  were  at  Guinea  Station  at 
2.30  P.  M.,  and  in  Bowling  Green  at  11  o'clock,  making  only  a 
short  halt,  till  12.30  A.  M.  On  the  24th,  at  an  early  hour,  our 
new  colonel  and  his  musical  staff  caught  up  with  his  regiment. 
There  is  no  record  of  the  bands  making  any  music  on  the  march 
other  than  with  their  chins.  They  saved  their  wind  for  locomo 
tive  purposes.  Company  G  was  also  on  the  way,  and  the  march 
of  the  23d  wore  so  severely  on  the  men  that  the  captain  re 
marks,  "Good  men  fall  out,"  and  he,  too,  remarks  the  conflagra 
tion  in  Bowling  Green.  Instead  of  advancing  with  the  regi 
ment  on  the  24th,  this  company  was  obliged  to  rest,  marching 
only  four  or  five  miles. 

The  24th  of  May  beheld  us  again  advancing,  but  at  9  A.  M. 
or  thereabouts  we  were  halted,  and  Colonel  Seward  took  formal 
command  of  the  regiment,  announcing  that  Colonel  Joseph 
Welling  had  resigned,  and  that  he,  William  H.  Seward,  Jr., 
had  been  promoted  to  fill  the  vacancy.  His  address  was  not 
long,  but  it  was  direct,  and  all  felt  that  there  would  be  no 
flinching,  so  far  as  the  head  of  the  column  was  concerned.  We 
are  enjoined  to  do  our  duty  faithfully  and  manfully,  and  then 
came  the  "Forward,  march!"  for  the  first  time  from  Colonel 
Seward.  Notwithstanding  this  gracious  send-off,  the  day  was 
not  comfortable.  Rain  fell,  but  we  were  not  permitted  to  put 
on  our  rubber-blankets,  so  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  plod 


REACHING  THE   FRONT.  89 

and  splash  along.  That  we  are  becoming  experienced  soldiers 
is  evident  in  some  of  our  boys  shooting  and  skinning  a  pig,  the 
first  bloodshed  of  the  march,  thus  affording  fresh  pork  to  a 
favored  few  at  our  first  halt.  We  ford  Pole  Cat  creek,  charmed 
neither  by  its  name  nor  waters,  though  there  were  times  during 
the  da^'  wrhen  we  would  have  gladly  welcomed  the  latter,  so 
intense  was  our  thirst.  Though  the  rain  was  falling  in  torrents, 
there  was  none  for  our  satisfaction.  As  with  the  Ancient  Mar 
iner,  there  was  water,  water  everywhere,  but  not  a  drop  to 
drink.  Some  were  fain  in  this  extremity  to  dip  up  the  liquid, 
more  mud  than  water,  between  the  hills  of  corn,  and  thereby 
lessen  their  thirst. 

When  in  the  darkness  we  reached  Mt.  Carmel  Church,  a 
hungry,  wet  and  weary  regiment  was  ready  to  rest.  However, 
as  was  often  the  case,  when  we  wrent  into  camp,  it  appeared 
that  we  were  not  in  the  right  place,  and  amid  much  profanity 
among  those  who  swore,  further  progress  was  stayed,  while 
we  fell  in  to  march  a  rod  or  so.  Then  those  at  the  head  betook 
themselves  to  the  church  for  shelter,  and  we  made  a  big  fire 
of  rails,  around  which  we  roasted  one  side  and  had  the  other 
soaked  by  the  drenching  rain,  which  held  up  only  towards 
morning.  We  were  getting  our  introduction  to  actual  out-of- 
door  soldier  life.  One  man  entered  in  his  diary  for  the  night, 
"After  three  makings  of  bed,  we  lay  on  the  ground  till  morn 
ing.  Had  to  stay  up  two  hours  to  get  a  drink  of  water."  Morn 
ing  came  at  last,  but  if  Aurora's  fingers  were  rosy,  they  were 
also  dipped  in  moisture.  There  had  been  fighting  near  this 
church,  and  some  of  us  had  camped  near  fresh  graves  or  recent 
dead,  some  bodies  so  imperfectly  covered  that  parts  of  them 
were  exposed. 

We  had  begun  to  draw  rations  when  peremptory  orders 
were  given  to  suspend  and  for  us  to  "fall  in."  A  hurried  march 
of  a  few  miles  brought  us  to  the  south  side  of  the  North  Anna 
river,  where  our  men  and  the  Johnnies  experienced  a  harder- 
time  than  we  did,  for  they  had  had  quite  a  brisk  fight  on  the 
23d  and  24th.  As  we  set  forth  in  the  morning,  we  were  over 
taken  by  Company  G,  and  so  all  were  again  together.  We  took 
our  places  in  trenches  dug  the  night  before,  we  were  told,  by 
the  5th  Corps.  There  was  not  the  least  doubt  that  at  last  we 
had  reached  the  front.  Constantly  receding,  we  had  finally 
overtaken  it  and  were  a  part  of  that  Army  of  the  Potomac 
which,  under  Grant,  was  "flanking"  its  way  down  from  the 


90  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Rapidan  to  Petersburg.  Up  to  this  moment  it  had  been  a  mat 
ter  of  entire  indifference  as  to  what  corps  we  should  be  as 
signed,  but  when  on  the  26th  it  appeared  that  we  were  to  be  in 
the  6th  Corps,  we  were  particularly  pleased,  a  pleasure  that 
has  never  been  lessened  in  the  intervening  years;  we  further 
found  that  ours  was  a  regiment  in  the  2d  Brigade  of  the  3d 
Division.  So  many,  however,  did  we  number  that  we  were 
frequently  saluted  with  the  question,  "What  brigade  is  that?" 
This  was  not  strange,  for  we  must  have  had  in  line  half  as  many 
men  as  were  in  the  other  six  regiments  of  the  brigade.  Some 
old  liners  saluted  us  with  "Washington  Gunners,"  "White- 
gloved  Soldiers,"  etc.,  but  we  assimilated,  and  soon  were  just 
as  much  earth-soiled  as  they  were.  As  these  organizations 
were  to  be  our  associates  in  peril  for  many  a  long  month,  it  is 
in  place  to  tell  just  what  and  who  they  were.  Fou«.  of  the 
regiments,  viz.,  the  5th  Maryland,  138th  Pennsylvania,  110th  and 
122d  Ohio,  under  Colonel  John  W.  Horn,  M.  R.  McClennan,  J. 
W.  Keifer  and  William  H.  Ball,  respectively,  had  long  been 
associated  as  the  2d  Brigade,  3d  Division  of  the  3d  Army  Corps. 
Under  the  organization  effected  by  Grant  March  24th,  1864, 
the  3d  Division  of  the  3d  Corps  became  a  like  part  of  the  6th. 
To  the  brigade  were  added  the  126th  Ohio,  Colonel  B.  F.  Smith, 
and  a  part  of  the  67th  Pennsylvania,  which  had  before  served 
in  the  3d  Brigade,  3d  Division  of  the  6th  Corps.  The  Pennsyl- 
vanians  were  attached  to  the  138th  Pennsylvania.  All  of  them 
were  three-years  regiments  and  all  had  seen  a  deal  of  service. 
At  the  time  of  our  joining,  Major  General  H.  G.  Wright,  who 
had  succeeded  the  lamented  Sedgewick  at  Spottsylvania,  was 
in  command,  and  so  continued,  save  at  brief  intervals,  to  the 
end  of  the  war.  The  division  commander  was  Brigadier  Gen 
eral  James  B.  Ricketts,  who  was  to  stay  by  till  wounded  at 
Cedar  Creek.  In  command  of  the  brigade  was  Colonel  J.  War 
ren  Keifer  of  the  110th  Ohio,  though  on  account  of  a  wound  he 
was  away  at  the  time,  and  his  place  was  filled  by  Colonel 
Smith  of  the  126th  Ohio. 

When  our  regiment  came  up  footsore  and  weary,  and  filed 
by  General  Ricketts,  he  turned  to  our  leader  and  said,  "The 
Ninth  is  a  fine  body  of  men;  will  the  boys  fight?"  After  the 
battle  of  Cold  Harbor,  the  general  was  thoughtful  enough  to 
answer  his  own  question  saying,  "Colonel,  those  boys  did  fight 
well." 


PROM  THE  NORTH  ANNA  THROUGH  COLD  HARBOR.      91 


CHAPTER     XII. 

PRELUDE.  May  4-5,  Army  of  the  Potomac  crossed  the  Rapidan; 
May  5-7,  Battle  of  the  Wilderness;  May  8-18,  Battle  of  Spottsylvania 
Court  House;  General  John  Sedgewick  killed  the  9th;  May  23-27,  bat 
tles  near  the  North  Anna  river. 

FROM  THE  NORTH  ANNA  THROUGH  COLD  HARBOR. 

We  had  crossed  the  river  on  pontoons  near  Jericho  Mills, 
and  the  sight,  of  all  others,  which  pleased  us  most  was  that 
of  Sheridan's  cavalry,  which  only  the  day  before  had  rejoined 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  after  the  memorable  Richmond  raid, 
one  of  whose  most  conspicuous  features  was  the  death  of  the 
Confederate  general,  J.  E.  B.  Stuart,  at  the  Yellow  Tavern 
engagement,  May  11,  though  the  redoubtable  "Jeb."  did  not 
die  till  the  next  day  in  Richmond.  Here  along  the  line  of  the 
Virginia  Central  railroad,  on  the  26th,  we  had  our  first  sight 
at  tearing  up  rails.  The  preceding  day  men  of  the  5th  Corps 
had  destroyed  long  stretches  of  the  road,  and  had  succeeded 
in  leaving  many  tokens  of  their  presence  in  the  shape  of  Maltese 
crosses  made  around  trees  and  stumps  by  bent  railroad  iron. 
Standing  beside  the  track  very  closely  together,  at  the  word 
they  would  stoop  and,  seizing  a  piece  of  iron,  lift  it  and  the  ties 
till  the  latter  stood  on  end.  It  was  an  easy  matter  then  to 
detach  the  latter,  and  when  laid  up,  cob-pile  fashion,  the  rails 
were  placed  on  them.  When  fired,  the  heat  soon  rendered  the 
rails  red-hot,  and  the  ends  would  droop.  The  soldiers  would 
then  seize  them  and  carry  them  so  that  the  heated  part 
would  come  against  the  tree,  and  the  ends  would  enclose  it. 
Four  rails  thus  made  an  excellent  5th  Corps  badge.  We  also 
formed  in  battle-line  in  a  piece  of  woods  half  a  mile  in  front 
of  the  works,  but  nothing  came  of  it,  and  we  marched  back  to 
our  intrenchments,  where  our  chief  concern  was  in  trying  to 
keep  out  of  the  wet.  Not  only  did  the  rain  fall,  but  the  wind 
blew,  so  that  it  was  a  difficult  matter  to  put  up  our  shelter- 
tents,  and  if  we  did  get  them  up,,  it  was  more  than  likely  that 
a  stream  of  water  would  find  its  way  through  the  middle  of 
the  same,  and  memory  calls  up  many  ludicrous  scenes  of  that 
wet  afternoon.  A  more  than  usually  profane  episode  was  that 
of  Tim.  C trying  to  get  his  "d — d  tint  in  a  dacent  position." 


92  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

He  could  not,  possibly,  keep  two  corners  pinned  down  at  the 
same  time,  but  he  pounded  and  swore  till  wet  to  the  skin,  and 
even  then  had  no  covering,  nor  was  his  experience  unique. 

Lieutenant  Dennis  Flynn  of  Company  K  wrote  to  his  wife 
from  this  point:  "We  have  been  in  line  of  battle,  but  the  rebs 
did  not  attack,  and  we  were  ordered  back.  Company  K  goes  on 
picket  to-night.  Boys  in  good  spirits,  though  some  are  badly 
used  up.  Weather  dreadfully  hot;  plenty  of  hardtack  and 
coffee  till  to-day.  We  are  encamped  where  a  great  battle  was 
fought  last  Monday.  Am  sitting  on  a  rebel  grave  as  I  write. 
Our  brigade  tore  up  four  miles  of  railroad  near  this  place. 
Crossed  river  on  pontoons,  thirty  miles  from  Richmond.  There 
is  to  be  tall  fighting  yet,  and  the  Ninth  is  to  have  a  hand  in 
it.  Seven  regiments  in  the  brigade,  and  only  7500  men  in  all 
of  them.  Our  line  of  battle  is  a  mile  long.  We  are  on  the  right. 
This  is  a  strong  place.  Don't  think  the  Johnnies  will  give  us 
battle  here,  so  we  will  have  to  go  and  hunt  them  up."  That  is 
just  what  we  did,  for  though  the  night  was  very  dark  and  the 
rain  was  falling  pitilessly,  the  command  "fall  in''  came  just  the 
same,  and  into  the  darkness  we  marched,  with  no  more  knowl 
edge  of  our  destination  than  has  the  steed  before  his  driver. 

Werecrossed  the  river  on  the  same  pontoon  bridge,  and  on  the 
north  side  plunged  into  the  mud,  which  before  morning  gave 
us  a  very  good  notion  of  what  Virginia  could  do  in  this  line. 
We  had  heard  of  Burnside  "stuck  in  the  mud/'  and  now  we 
were  to  realize  what  it  was  to  have  the  sacred  soil  stick  to 
us.  Our  route  leads  by  Chesterfield  Church  as  we  journey 
southward,  but  direction  and  destination  have  become  of  far 
less  consequence  than  the  demands  of  the  present  moment.  To 
carry  his  outfit  and  to  keep  up,  demand  every  bit  of  strength 
that  the  soldier  possesses.  Many  are  not  equal  to  the  task  and 
have  to  give  up.  Some  die  in  their  tracks.  Here  is  a  record: 
"Pass  one  man  writhing  in  death  in  the  mud-exhaustion."  The 
artillery  which  came  floundering  along  ground  into  the  mud 
some  helpless  victims.  Jakey  -  -  of  Company  M,  a  little 
Dutchman  of  marvelous  powers  of  mimicry,  fell  in  a  fit  and 
died.  Another  of  Company  F  succumbed  to  the  trials  of  the 
night.  Captain  Bacon  of  D  fainted.  It  was  no  picnic  for  those 
who  survived.  Lucky  the  soldier  whose  feet  were  encased  in 
boots,  for  he  could  keep  them  on,  while  shoes  enough  to  stock 
a  big  store  were  left  in  those  muddy  roads.  It  is  to  be  hoped 


FROM   THE    NORTH  *ANNA   THROUGH   COLD    HARBOR.  93 

that  the  language  of  that  night  failed  of  record,  but  it  was 
copious  and  forcible.  All  suffered  alike,  officers  as  well  as  men, 
and  all  noted  Sheridan's  dead  cavalry  horses,  which  at  frequent 
intervals,  by  their  unmistakable  odor,  told  us  which  way  the 
raiders  went.  We  were  never  tired  of  chaff,  and,  "Breathe 
light  on  that  so  there'll  be  'nuff  to  go  round,"  or,  "Any  man 
that'll  take  more'n  one  sniff  of  that's  a  hog,"  indicated  the 
proximity  of  one  of  those  dead  steeds,  swollen  and  fast  putrify- 
ing,  a  northern  contribution  to  the  fertility  of  the  soil.  Had 
we  halted  long,  burial  parties  had  been  a  necessity.  As  it  was, 
we  held  our  breath  and  passed  the  stench  along.  After  mid 
night  we  drew  rations  somewhere,  but  no  one  knows  to  this 
day  where  the  spot  was,  and  a  short  halt  was  had  till  day 
light  of  the  27th,  during  which  day  we  passed  the  headquarters 
of  Generals  Meade  and  Grant,  and  for  the  first  time  saw  those 
famous  men.  Some  companies  served  as  flankers,  a  duty  agree 
able  or  otherwise  according  to  the  feeling  of  the  individual. 
In  that  portion  of  the  country  a  large  part  of  the  flanker's  way 
was  in  the  woods,  and  thus  shady,  a  grateful  condition  to  him 
when  the  sun  came  out,  but  it  was,  necessarily,  exposed. 

We  camp  at  night  near  the  Pamunkey  river.  This  day  brought 
us  the  first  mail  since  leaving  the  defenses,  and  present  care 
was  forgotten  in  the  absorbing  news  from  far-away  home. 
Whether  the  letters  brought  glad  or  sad  words  from  loved  ones, 
there  was  nothing  in  our  lives  so  grateful  to  us  as  the  coming  of 
the  mail.  The  28th  is  signalized  by  our  crossing  the  sluggish 
stream,  and  at  a  distance  from  it  of  possibly  two  miles,  we 
threw  up  breastworks.  The  cavalry  bring  in  several  rebel  pris 
oners.  There  is  some  skirmishing  with  the  enemy,  and  a  part 
of  the  regiment  supports  the  1st  New  Jersey  Battery.  This 
day  also  is  noteworthy  in  that  we  meet  our  own  25th  District 
regiment,  the  lllth,  under  Colonel  McDougal,  and  we  exchange 
hurried  greetings  with  many  old  friends.  One  sad-faced  boy, 
asked  as  to  his  father  who  had  been  in  the  same  company  with 
him,  replied,  "Pie  has  not  been  seen  since  the  Wilderness;  prob 
ably  his  body  was  burned  there."  The  son  also,  ere  the  season 
was  passed,  gave  his  life  for  country.*  The  29th  is  Sunday,  and 
evidently  there  is  some  nervousness  at  headquarters,  for  we 
are  not  allowed  to  sleep  in  peace,  but  are  aroused  soon  after 

*Lafayette  and  Morris  Craw,  father  and  son,  of  South  Butler,  were 
both  in  Company  G  of  the  lllth. 


94  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

midnight  and  then,  "In  place,  rest,"  till  daybreak,  barring  two 
spells  of  "right  dressing."  D,  C  and  G  are  on  picket,  and 
through  slaying  sundry  pigs  and  cattle  live  very  well.  "Too 
well,"  an  officer  remarks,  "for  many  were  attacked  by  diar 
rhea."  Two  hundred  men  from  the  battalion  are  on  this 
picket-duty,  one-half  on  posts,  the  other  in  reserve.  Four  men 
are  on  a  post,  and  the  posts  are  a  few  rods  apart,  in  easy  hailing 
distance. 

On  the  30th  some  of  us  resumed  our  duties  as  wagon-guards, 
marching  on  each  side  of  the  trains,  possibly  three  rods  from 
the  same,  and  one  or  two  from  each  other;  on  the  whole  an 
agreeable  task,  though  the  wagons  were  empty  and  rattled 
loudly  enough,  seemingly,  to  be  heard  in  Richmond,  which 
was  claimed  to  be  twenty-four  or  five  miles  away.  It  was  said 
that  we  managed  to  get  on  the  wrong  road,  and  came  very 
near  running  into  serious  trouble  through  our  nearness  to  the 
rebel  army.  At  any  rate  Lieutenant  Colonel  Taft  with  a  small 
party  had  gone  forward  a  short  distance  to  reconnoitre  when  he 
was  met  by  a  superior  force  of  the  enemy,  and  was  compelled 
to  return  hastily,  having  several  of  his  men  captured.  Company 
A  was  ordered  forward  at  double  quick  to  the  rescue,  and  the 
rebels  in  turn  retired  leaving  their  recent  captives  minus  hats 
and  coats,  since  in  this  brief  time  the  acquisitive  foes  had  ap 
propriated  what  they  needed  most,  viz.,  clothing.  Somewhere 
between  Reb  and  Fed,  a  pig  and  a  sheep  had  been  killed,  and 
dressing  was  in  progress  when  the  above  skirmish  arose.  Who 
ever  slew,  the  Yankees  possessed  and  speedily  disposed  of  the 
fresh  meat  all  the  more  greedily,  because  rations  had  become  ex 
ceedingly  scarce. 

Of  course  the  whole  procession,  wagons  and  men.  speedily 
countermarched,  and  to  add  alacrity  to  our  movements,  the 
enemy  directed  a  few  shells  towards  us.  Jagger  of  Company  B 
was  hit  in  the  thigh,  though  not  severely,  by  a  fragment,  prob 
ably  the  first  member  of  the  regiment  to  be  touched  by  a  hostile 
missile.  These  happenings  were  all  near  Hanover  Court  House, 
and  some  of  the  soldiers  had  time  to  wonder  whether  they  were 
anywhere  near  the  Slashes,  where  Henry  Clay  was  born,  who 
in  early  life  had  been  called  the  "Mill  Boy  of  the  Slashes;"  but 
the  citizen  who  might  have  informed  us  was  not  in  sight,  and 
just  then  not  even  the  most  entertaining  historical  subject  could 
induce  straggling.  The  day's  march  reduced  the  haversack 


FROM  THE  NORTH  ANNA  THROUGH  COLD  HARBOR.      95 

supply  to  its  lowest  ebb;  some  bad  been  empty  more  than 
twenty-four  hours.  The  change  of  the  base  of  supplies  from 
Fredericksburg  to  Port  Koyal  had  so  deranged  the  system  that 
our  wagon-train  was  a  long  way  behind,  and  hardtacks  became 
objects  of  serious  quest.  Before  rations  were  dealt  out,  a  dol 
lar  was  offered  for  a  single  piece,  and  there  were  men  who  stole 
corn  in  the  ear  from  cavalry  horses,  and  roasted  it  for  food. 

Wherever  we  were  when  night  found  us,  we  were  far  from 
pleasant  surroundings.  We  were  in  and  out  of  the  woods, 
marching  and  countermarching,  as  restless  as  lost  souls;  but 
having  no  rations  to  prepare  for  eating,  it  did  not  matter  so 
much.  We  were  near  enough  to  the  enemy  to  have  a  reminder 
of  his  presence  in  the  shape  of  sundry  shells,  one  of  which 
passed  unpleasantly  near  us.  Its  fiery  trail  was  a  very  pretty 
bit  of  pyrotechny,  but  it  had  striking  qualities  not  so  enjoy 
able.  The  31st  brought  the  wagon-train  and  rations.  While 
we  had  not  suffered  as  the  beleaguered  did  at  Chattanooga,  we 
did  know  what  hunger  was,  and  everybody  was  ready  to  help 
carry  his  company's  share  for  distribution.  One  famished  youth, 
desiring  to  escape  any  possibility  of  subsequent  scarcity, 
Joseph-like,  filled  his  haversack  with  hard  bread,  and  then  put 
fifty  in  his  knapsack,  but  his  calculations  were  of  no  account, 
for  he  soon  after  was  taken  ill,  and  did  not  eat  a  half  dozen  in 
all.  After  carrying  them  about  for  nearly  a  week,  he  gave 
them  away  to  hungry  comrades  at  Cold  Harbor. 

The  last  day  of  May  the  3d  Battalion,  Companies  F,G,  I  and 
L,  under  Major  Snyder,  was  detached  and  added  to  the  artillery 
brigade  of  the  6th  Corps.  The  progress  of  these  companies  will 
be  followed  at  the  end  of  this  chapter.  The  day  ended  with 
picket-duty  for  a  part  of  the  regiment,  a  duty  faithfully  per 
formed  by  some  and  as  regularly  shirked  by  others,  i.  e.,  too 
many  would  throw  all  care  and  caution  on  a  nervous,  vigilant 
few,  while  they  themselves  slept  or  played  cards.  The  hour 
could  not  have  been  far  from  midnight  when  there  came, 
through  the  stillness  from  the  nearest  post,  the  almost  whis 
pered  words,  "Rally  on  the  reserve;  pass  it  along."  Only  the 
long  roll  has  a  more  startling  effect.  We  obeyed  with  alacrity, 
and  at  3  A.  M.  June  1st,  we  were  off  at  a  spanking  pace,  which 
we  maintained,  with  occasional  halts,  till  2  P.  M.  We  did  not 
know  it  then,  but  it  subsequently  appeared  that  we  were  very 
near  the  scene  of  McClellan's  Battle  of  Cold  Harbor,  June  27, 


96  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

1862,  and  that  new  interest  was  hereafter  to  attach  to  this  por 
tion  of  Virginia  through  the  work  of  this  and  subsequent  days. 
Just  why  it  received  its  peculiar  name  does  not  appear.  There  was 
no  harbor,*  and  we  found  nothing  cold,  not  even  our  reception. 
Lee  had  been  flanked  to  a  standstill.  Whether  Grant's  attack 
was  a  proper  one  or  not,  is  very  far  from  the  part  of  a  regimen 
tal  history  to  discuss.  Our  duty  was  simply  to  obey  orders  and 
follow  the  colors. 

Those  of  our  ranks  who  were  inclined  to  look  about  found 
much  of  interest  in  their  researches,  though  nearly  all  our  time, 
till  late  in  the  afternoon,  was  devoted  to  throwing  up  breast 
works.  The  boy  who  hooked  a  little  time,  just  to  see  where 
he  was,  found  his  line  of  breastworks  forming  a  sort  of  door- 
yard  fence  of  an  old  house,  whose  women  occupants  looked 
anything  but  happy.  General  Wright  had  located  his  head 
quarters  here,  and  with  several  of  his  officers  was  studying  the 
map  of  the  vicinity.  This  fact  with  the  sharpening  of  an  elab 
orate  display  of  knives  by  a  corps  of  surgeon's  attaches  made 
it  apparent  that  trouble  was  brewing,  nor  were  these  indica 
tions  vain.  While  we  were  throwing  up  earthworks,  dis 
mounted  cavalry  were  having  some  sort  of  an  entertainment 
in  the  woods  directly  before  us.  Their  running  in  and  out  was 
not  unlike  the  movements  of  boys  when  they  fight  a  nest  of 
bumble-bees,  nor  those  of  dogs  that  assail  a  beast  at  bay.  But 
there  was  no  play  in  this.  They  were  the  skirmishers,  where 
we  were  soon  to  do  great  works. 

General  Keifer  says  the  brigade  was  in  position  at  2  P.  M., 
with  the  Ninth  forming  the  second  and  third  lines,  and  that 
the  advance  was  not  made  till  6  o'clock.  It  certainly  was  near 
ly  dark  when  we  charged.  Of  our  regiment  in  this  battle  of 
the  1st  of  June,  the  3d  Battalion,  Companies  F,  I,  G  and  L, 
were  out  through  having  other  duties.  Companies  D,  M  and  a 
part  of  E,  with  Major  Burgess,  through  some  misunderstand 
ing,  were  not  up,  so  less  than  one-half  had  a  part.  The  expe 
rience  of  the  coming  hours  was  to  be  entirely  novel  to  these 


*By  different  writers  the  name  has  been  written  "Cool  Arbor," 
"Coal  Harbor,"  etc.,  but  the  English  origin  of  the  settlers  appears  in 
Cold  Harbor,  an  appellation  for  places  where  travelers,  in  lieu  of 
inns,  could  be  harbored,  i.  e.,  housed  while  they  provided  their  own 
entertainment.  Taylor  says  that  in  the  vicinity  of  ancient  lines  of 
roads  in  England,  there  are  no  less  than  seventy  of  these  places. 


FROM   THE    NORTH   ANNA   THROUGH    COLD    HARBOR. 


97 


UNION    WORKS 


Barker's 
Mill  . 


COLD  HARBOR,  JUNE  1-11,  1864. 

country  boys.  At  our  left  as  we  stood  in  line  was  a  Pennsyl 
vania  regiment  wearing  hairy  appendages  to  their  caps,  and  we 
knew  we  were  near  one  of  the  famous  bodies  of  men  known 
as  "Bucktails."*  Possibly  some  nervousness  on  our  part  drew 
out  the  query  as  to  who  we  were,  and  on  informing  them  that 
we  were  so  and  so,  and  that  we  had  never  been  in  a  fight,  we  were 


*The  87th  Pennsylvania  in  the  second  line  of  the  1st  Brigade. 

7 


98  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

graciously  told  that  we  would  probably  get  our  bellies  full 
before  morning,  a  prophecy  that  was  fulfilled  in  every  respect. 
We  lay  down  while  an  artillery  duel  was  filling  the  air  with 
iron,  but  we  could  not  see  that  any  particular  harm  was  done. 
The  noise  was  an  excellent  hardener  to  our  inexperienced  ears. 
Was  there  ever  a  time  when  canteens  were  not  empty  at  the 
most  critical  moment?  We  were  choking  under  that  hot  sun, 
and  there  was  no  water  near.  No  one  could  go  to  replenish  the 
supply  with  less  than  ten  canteens,  but  that  number  of  empty 
ones  was  not  hard  to  find.  One  tyro  as  he  returned,  heavy 
laden,  heard  his  first  bullet  in  close  proximity,  apparently;  he 
paid  it  proper  respect  in  a  duck  of  his  head,  which  nearly  dis 
located  his  neck  and  occasioned  no  end  of  fun  to  the  veterans 
who  saw  him.  In  his  absence  there  had  been  a  slight  advance, 
and  wounded  men  were  already  moving  to  the  rear.  As  we 
lay  waiting  the  word,  a  little  bird,  perched  in  a  small  tree  near 
us,  wholly  indifferent  to  the  cannon's  din,  sang  as  sweetly  as 
ever  he  had  done  over  meadows  green,  with  streamlets  bright. 
While  we  realized  that  those  who  knew  nothing  fear  nothing, 
yet  the  bird's  blissful  unconsciousness  and  fearlessness  gave 
many  a  boy  a  feeling  of  confidence  that  he  might  again  see 
home  and  mother.  Though  the  ground  had  recently  been 
burned  over,  and  was  as  black  as  soot  itself,  no  consideration 
of  our  apparel  prevented  the  closest  embraces  of  Mother  Earth. 

It  was  a  long  wait  thus  in  line,  and  there  is  little  wonder  if 
the  noise  actually  became  a  lullaby  to  many  a  man  whose 
senses,  lulled  or  stunned  by  the  confusion,  gave  way  to  sleep.* 

The  sun  was  just  sinking  behind  the  woods  into  which  we 
were  to  plunge  when  the  long-expected  "Attention !"  was  heard, 
followed  by,  "Forward,  march!"  and  with  repeated  injunctions, 
"Guide  right,"  we  speedily  advanced  from  our  copse  of  black 
ened  trees,  and  then,  on  either  hand,  could  be  seen  the  long, 
sinuous  line,  from  which  men  were  constantly  dropping  as 
they  were  hit  by  the  enemy's  bullets,  but  the  line  heeded  not. 


*This  torpor  was  common  to  soldiers  under  similar  circumstances. 
Lieut.  Vaill,  p.  60,  History  of  2d  Connecticut  Heavy  Artillery,  says: 
"Their  stupor  was  of  a  kind  that  none  can  describe,  and  none  but  sol 
diers  can  understand."  This  regiment  was  under  the  same  heavy 
firing  that  we  experienced.  Orders  were  given  repeatedly,  yet  when 

the  moment  came  to  advance,  "Corporal  H had  to  be  waked  up  from 

a  sound  sleep." 


FROM  THE  NORTH  ANNA  THROUGH  COLD  HARBOR.       99 

Down  a  slight  declivity  we  ran  and  some  found  ourselves 
floundering  in  a  morass,  quite  waist-deep,  and  we  were  well 
loaded  with  mud  and  moisture  when  we  emerged  on  the  other 
side.  Thence  there  was  a  rise  of  ground,  up  which  we  marched, 
and  it  seemed  as  though  all  the  artillery  of  the  enemy  were 
massed  at  that  particular  spot,  for  had  h — 1  been  turned  up 
sideways,  to  our  inexperienced  eyes,,  the  sight  could  not  have 
been  more  fiery.  By  this  time  the  darkness  was  such  that  our 
only  light  came  from  the  cannon's  mouths  and  the  fuses  of 
shell,  whose  illuminated  trail,  however  sightly,  was  not  the 
kind  of  gleam  the  most  of  us  would  choose.  But  we  were 
swiftly  advancing  to  where  the  roar  of  musketry  drowned  even 
that  of  the  cannon,  and  the  scream  of  shells  was  no  longer 
heard.  The  noise  incident  to  the  firing  of  so  many  thousand 
muskets  blended  into  one  vast,  absorbing  note  no  more  dis 
tinguishable,  as  to  its  individual  parts,  than  is  the  roar  of  a 
crowded  street  when  thousands  of  vehicles  rattling  over  the 
pavement  combine  to  make  a  sound  rivaling  distant  thunder, 
but  our  thunder  was  near  at  hand;  so  near  that  one  was  not 
always  certain  whether  his  gun  went  off  or  not.  There  are 
times  when  a  kicking  musket  has  its  good  points.  It  would  not 
be  an  excellent  figure,  but  were  we  to  fancy  Omnipotence  shak 
ing  the  whole  region,  like  an  enormous  corn-popper  over  In 
ferno  itself,  some  idea  of  the  way  firing  began  and  culminated 
might  be  gained. 

Long  lines  of  prisoners  came  through  our  ranks  saying, 
"Don't  shoot,"  and  then  we  plied  the  work  of  death  again. 
Many  an  officer  of  our  regiment  that  night  found  a  gun  a  vastly 
more  effective  weapon  than  his  sword  and  worked  it  according 
ly.  The  night  was  long,  and  while  the  fight  was  not  continuous, 
it  raged  at  intervals  till  after  2  o'clock  A.  M.  on  the  2d,  and 
when  the  morning  did  appear,  we  had  our  first  glimpse  of  what 
death  in  the  field  of  battle  was  like.  As  usual,  opportunity  was 
found  to  dig  rifle-pits  before  daybreak. 

During  this  day  the  6th  Corps,  as  it  were,  regained  its  breath, 
while  the  2d  on  our  left  was  getting  into  position.  Rest  after 
the  labors  of  the  night  was  grateful,  and  though  the  din  of 
battle  was  all  about  us,  we  sought  and  found  sleep  and  re 
newed  strength.  Companies  D,  M,  and  E  in  part,  come  up  and 
are  again  with  us.  In  later  days  we  learned  that  our  3d  Divi 
sion  held  the  right  of  the  6th  Corps,  with  the  18th  Corps  still 


100  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

further  to  the  right.  Our  division  engaged  the  men  of  rebel 
General  Hoke's  left  and  Kershaw's  right,  and  carried  them, 
Klingman's  brigade  giving  way,  as  did  Wofford's,  and  a  part  of 
Bryan's  brigades.  The  3d  Division  captured  more  than  500 
prisoners,  but  our  loss  was  severe.  Just  at  our  left  was  killed 
Colonel  Kellogg  of  the  2d  Connecticut  Heavy  Artillery  with 
forty-three  of  his  men.  The  corps  lost  in  this  engagement  1200 
in  killed  and  wounded.  The  part  borne  by  the  division  was 
recognized  by  General  Meade  in  the  following  special  order: 

Headquarters  Army  of  the  Potomac, 

June  1st,  1864. 
Major  General  Wright: 

Please  give  my  thanks  to  Brigadier  General  Kicketts  and  his 
gallant  command  for  the  very  handsome  manner  in  which  they 
have  conducted  themselves  to-day.  The  success  attained  by 
them  is  of  great  importance,  and  if  followed  up  will  materially 
advance  our  operations. 

GEOEGE  G.  MEADE, 
Major  General  Commanding. 

In  the  Ninth,  with  less  than  half  the  regiment  engaged, 
thirteen  men  were  killed,  and  one  officer,  Captain  Gregory  of 
Company  B,  fatally  wounded;  fully  a  hundred  men  were 
wounded,  more  or  less  severely,  nine  fatally.  It  is  claimed  that 
Egbert  Cady  of  Company  A  was  the  first  one  killed,  a  South 
Butler  boy.* 

Henry  A.  Dudley  of  the  same  company  was  early  shot  in 
the  arm,  and  went  to  the  rear.  Private  D ,  though  a  north 
ern  man,  was  in  Texas  when  the  war  began  and  was  forced  into 
the  rebel  service.  Later,  having  been  captured  he  was  held  a 
prisoner  in  Camp  Chase,  Illinois.  Having  communicated  with 
Wolcott  relatives,  he  was  by  them  gotten  out,  after  taking  the 
oath  of  allegiance.  To  still  further  prove  his  devotion  to  the 


*Of  Cady,  his  former  captain,  now  Major  Snyder,  wrote  to  a  Wayne 
county  paper:  "  It  grieves  me  much  to  hear  of  the  death  of  Egbert 
Cady;  a  more  frank,  open-hearted  and  brave  boy  never  lived.  He 
fills  a  patriot's  grave;  the  soil  of  Cold  Harbor  never  received  a  braver 
heart,  though  buried  by  stranger  hands.  He  sleeps  in  peace,  and  I 
would  say  to  his  bereaved  parents,  '  You  have  given  a  noble  sacrifice 
to  your  country,  and  he  will  meet  you  at  the  final  muster  day  when 
the  noble  Army  of  the  Potomac  shall  all  fall  in.'  John  Blakely,  too, 
has  gone;  his  quiet,  unassuming  face  we  never  shall  see  again  below, 
but  his  memory  will  be  cherished  as  one  more  victim  of  this  accursed 
Rebellion." 


FROM  THE  NORTH  ANNA  THROUGH  COLD  HARBOR.      101 

flag,  he  enlisted  and  suffered  as  above.  He  did  not  rejoin  the, 
regiment,  but  was  discharged,  and  later  served  the  people  of 
Wolcott  as  postmaster. 

The  3d  of  June  witnessed  the  charge  that  General  Grant,  in 
his  memoirs,  says  he  would  not  order  again  had  he  the  work 
to  do  over.  Colonel  John  W.  Horn  of  the  6th  Maryland  is  in 
temporary  command,  owing  to  the  illness  of  Colonel  Smith. 
Again  we  form  the  second  and  third  lines,  and,  in  the  midst  of 
a  drizzling  rain,  which  almost  always  followed  a  battle,  and 
at  an  early  hour,,  we  advanced,  possibly  200  yards,  when  we 
intrenched,  improvising  all  sorts  of  implements  for  this  purpose, 
bayonets,  tin  cups  and  plates,  and  even  spoons.  We  are  in 
plain  sight  of  the  enemy's  works,  which  seem  specially  formid 
able,  but  lucidly  for  us  we  are  not  ordered  to  assault  them. 
Four  men  of  the  regiment  are  killed  and  several  wounded. 

At  nightfall,  we  withdrew  a  short  distance  and  threw  up 
breastworks,  in  which  business  we  claimed  to  be  experts.  Our 
position,  however,  is  so  exposed  that  we  are  obliged  to  make 
shorter  lines,  at  right  angles  to  the  main  ones,  that  we  may, 
in  a  degree,  protect  ourselves  from  the  cross-fire  to  which  we 
are  constantly  subjected.  Perhaps  the  four  years  did  not  afford 
an  instance  when  sharpshooters,  on  both  sides,  did  so  much 
service  as  at  Cold  Harbor.  They  were  in  trees  and  behind 
earthworks  in  a  wTay  to  sweep  the  entire  space,  and  no  man 
showed  his  head  without  danger  of  being  a  target.  As  in 
everything  else,  "familiarity  breeds  contempt,"  and  men 
learned  to  take  their  chances.  If  one  were  hit  it  was  his  ill 
luck.  If  he  escaped  it  was  his  good  fortune.  Of  course  there 
were  foolhardy  soldiers  who  would  take  no  pains  to  protect 
themselves,  and  oftentimes  they  went  scot-free.  Sometimes 
however,  they  tempted  fortune  too  often.  One  man  in  his 
temerity,  while  leveling  the  top  of  the  works,  finding  himself 
in  range,  made  believe  he  was  "at  the  bat"  in  baseball,  and 
with  his  shovel  played  hitting  the  ball,  all  the  time  cursing 
the  rebels,  and  saying  they  couldn't  hit  him.  On  the  contrary, 
when  the  artillery  firing  was  heavy,  and  the  air  was  full  of 
shrieking  missiles,  Jimmy  -  -  threw  himself  into  the  trench 
saying,  "I'll  never  see  Biddy  and  the  little  chicks  again." 

There  was  a  marked  difference  in  the  endurance  of  men. 
One  receiving  a  shot  in  the  wrist  made  thrice  the  outcry 
that  an  officer  did  when  his  shoulder  was  crushed.  Frank 


102  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Orterlipp,  whose  legs  were  taken  off  by  a  cannon-ball,  gave  no 
token  of  his  injury  except  a  groan,  lapsing  soon  into  uncon 
sciousness,  and  so  bleeding  to  death.  Till  the  12th  day  of  June, 
there  was  little  variation  in  our  work.  We  were  under  fire  all 
the  time,,  day  and  night.  When  we  were  in  front,  of  course  we 
were  more  exposed  than  when  further  back.  To  get  to  the 
front  line,  we  had  to  follow  sunken  paths  to  keep  as  far  as  pos 
sible  out  of  sight.  The  advance  that  we  made  on  the  first  day 
placed  us  where  we  were  liable  to  shots  from  front,  left  and 
right,  and  there  were  very  few  hours  of  the  twenty-four  when 
we  did  not  receive  some  indication  of  rebel  proximity.  Ball, 
shell  and  bullet  were  constantly  speeding,  sometimes  in  volleys, 
more  often  in  a  way  which  seemed  to  say,  "We  have  not  for 
gotten  you."  The  trees  must  have  become  filled  with  lead  and 
iron,  to  plague  the  wood-chopper  of  subsequent  years. 

Sergeant  E.  was  standing  back  of  a  tree,  half  as  large  through 
as  his  body,  when  a  shell  from  the  right  cut  the  tree  off  so 
squarely  and  perfectly  as  not  to  distrub  its  equilibrium,  but 
it  was  lifted  off  its  stump  and  for  some  time  stood  erect  by  its 
side.  The  sergeant's  face  was  a  study  as  he  thus  lost  his  sup 
port.  Evidently  he  thought  a  tree  a  vain  thing  for  safety.  Tom 
C —  -  and  a  party  of  dare-devil  comrades  are  having  a  game  of 
poker  on  what  seemed  to  be  the  safe  side  of  a  big  tree.  Whether 
seen  or  not  they  suddenly  found  themselves  the  storm  centre 
of  musketry,  and  the  tree  responds  actively  to  the  peculiar 
"pit"  of  bullets  stopped.  The  boys  vow  they  will  finish  that 
game  anyway,  and  swear  incessantly  at  the  rebs  for  disturbing 
them,  and  with  no  perceptible  acceleration  they  complete  the 
game,  and  then  defer  to  the  firing,  only  to  the  extent  of  moving 
to  the  other  side  of  the  tree.  From  far-away  Wisconsin,  M.  L. 
Vandervoort  sends  this  description  of  the  death  of  1st  Sergeant 
A.  H.  Follett  of  Company  C:  "It  was  on  the  5th  day  of  June 
and  of  the  fight  that  Jeremiah  Skinner  and  I  were  frying  hard 
tack  when  Sergeant  Follett  came  up  and  wanted  to  borrow  our 
spider.  As  soon  as  we  had  turned  out  our  food,  we  passed  it 
over  to  him,  and  he  put  it  between  his  knees  to  break  up  his 
crackers  in  it.  Apparently  we  were  in  sight  of  sharpshooters, 
and  we  tried  to  locate  them,  but  while  doing  so  we  heard  a 
slight  sound,  and  turned  to  find  the  sergeant's  head  fallen  for 
ward  into  his  frying-pan,  having  been  instantly  killed. 

The  odor  from  dead  bodies  had  become  very  offensive.    Early 


FROM  THE  NORTH  ANNA  THROUGH  COLD  HARBOR.      103 

in  the  engagement  General  Grant  had  proposed  a  system  to 
care  for  stricken  ones  of  both  sides,  but  no  agreement  was 
reached  with  General  Lee  till  the  seventh  day.  Meanwhile, 
those  wounded  men  who  had  not  been  rescued  at  imminent 
peril  by  their  comrades  had  died.  Under  the  hot  sun  of  June 
the  stench  was  intolerable,  and  when  an  hour's  respite  was  had 
the  work  was  done  indifferently.  A  lieutenant,  writing  home, 
said,  "I  went  half  way  across  the  field  and  met  several  of  the 
rebels,  some  officers.  They  were  very  friendly,  well  fed  and 
well  clothed.  When  time  was  up,  flag  went  down,  and  firing 
began  again.  Our  men  are  building  forts  and  getting  heavy 
guns  in  place.  Rebs  told  me  yesterday  they  had  300,000  men." 
Evidently,  bluff  was  a  favorite  game  with  warriors  on  both  sides. 
Night  added  to  the  interest  of  the  scene,  for  then  we  had  noise 
and  a  4th  of  July  display  of  fireworks  as  hissing  shells  de 
scribed  all  sorts  of  curves  over  or  through  our  lines.  Then 
would  come  the  familiar  "ki-yi-yi-yi"  of  the  rebels  as  they 
charged  upon  our  works,  to  be  answered  by  the  equally  clear 
"hurrah"  of  our  own  side.  Still,  rations  were  drawn  and 
cooked  just  as  though  we  were  miles  away  from  the  enemy. 
Sometimes  the  tents  are  crowded,  but  the  occupants  can  only 
growl  their  displeasure.  Mails  come  and  go,  just  as  if  we  were 
not  almost  in  h — 1  itself.  One  man  records  that  he  read  one 
of  H.  W.  Beecher's  sermons  in  the  New  York  Independent  as 
he  held  his  place  behind  the  works. 

The  whole  Potomac  Army  did  not  contain  a  gayer,  freer 
heart  than  that  of  "Jim"  Horner  of  the  lllth  New  York.  He 
was  personally  known  to  many  in  the  Ninth,  for,  in  the  muster 
ing  and  disbursing  office  in  Auburn,  he  had  served  with  them. 
Accordingly,  when  in  one  of  the  lulls  of  the  Cold  Harbor  storm, 
Horner  came  over  to  see  his  old  friends,  he  received  the  warm 
est  welcome  the  boys  could  give  him.  While  there  was  no 
great  fighting  going  on,  the  sharpshooters  were  at  it,  and  the 
zip  of  bullets  was  as  common  as  conversation.  "Then  you  ain't 
killed  yet,  Jim,"  says  one  old  acquaintance.  "No  siree,"  was 
the  ready  reply,  "The  bullet  isn't  run  that  can  kill  me."  This 
item  not  only  illustrates  the  familiarity  that  we  felt  towards 
these  messengers  of  death,  but  also  how  vain  is  boasting,  for 
though  he  left  us  all  right  and  returned  to  his  regiment 
unharmed,  he  was  shot  dead  the  next  day  in  a  charge  made 
upon  the  lines  of  the  2d  Corps.  The  bullet  had  been  run,  and 


104  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

when  the  soldier  spoke  was  less  than  twenty-four  hours  from 
its  awful  mission. 

During  this  battle-halt  at  Cold  Harbor  a  soldier  received  a 
pass  to  visit  the  9th  Corps,  and  thus  to  look  up  certain 
school  friends  in  the  24th  New  York  Cavalry,  not  yet  mounted. 
He  found  his  acquaintances  with  their  carbines  and  yellow 
stripes  doing  infantry  duty,  and  in  the  best  of  spirits.  Just 
where  they  were  the  front  was  specially  exposed,  and  the  pick 
ets,  in  plain  view,  were  keeping  themselves  busy  with  like  par 
ties  on  the  other  side.  To  see  a  wounded  man  walk  or  be  helped 
back  out  of  range  was  a  common  affair,  yet  the  friends  talked 
on  as  though  they  were  again  in  school  days,  upon  the  ball- 
field,  or  arranging  for  a  swimming-trip  to  the  river.  Old  Colonel 
Kichards  and  Major  Taylor  of  the  24th  were  in  evidence,  and 
everybody  who  had  a  duty  to  perform  was  attending  to  it,  but 
the  air  of  perfect  indifference,  as  now  recalled,  seems  strange 
enough.  Sometimes  it  appeared  as  though  the  soldiers  had 
fallen  into  the  Mahometan's  notion  of  Kismet.  If  it  was  to 
be,  it  would  be,  and  if  not,  then  not.  The  visit  over,  the  Ninth 
boy  returned  to  his  own  company  to  find  the  work  of  war  pro 
gressing  just  as  he  left  it,  and  he  had  had  a  few  hours  off, 
though  not  for  a  moment  out  of  range. 

By  the  night  of  the  10th  it  became  apparent  that  we  are  to 
make  some  sort  of  a  move,  since  a  deal  of  marching  and  halt 
ing  are  done.  The  llth,  rations  are  drawn,  but  we  don't  stay 
long  enough  in  one  place  to  cook  the  beans.  It  requires  several 
efforts  to  reduce  them  to  an  edible  condition.  Evidently  we 
are  more  remote  from  the  enemy,  for  we  are  no  longer  targets, 
but  strategy  or  some  other  military  necessity  demands  long 
lines  of  earthworks;  the  strongest  and  best  we  had  as  yet  con 
structed.  Large  trees  are  felled,  and  upon  skids  are  carried 
to  the  works  and  laid  up;  picks  and  shovels  in  the  hands  of 
lusty  men  and  boys  do  the  rest.  To  the  untaught  soldier,  it 
occasionally  seemed  that  he  was  doing  a  deal  of  useless  work, 
yet  he  had  found  such  fortifications  exceedingly  handy,  on 
occasion,  so  he  toiled  on,  and  just  grumbled. 

Companies  F,  G,  I  and  L,  constituting  the  3d  Battalion, 
having  been  detached  May  31  to  serve  in  the  artillery  brigade 
under  Colonel  Tompkins,*  it  is  proper  to  now  follow  them  to 

*Col.  Charles  H.  Tompkins,  born  in  Orange  Co.,  N.  Y.,  May  15,  1834, 
commanded  the  1st  R.  I.  Light  Artillery,  three  batteries  of  which,  C, 


FROM  THE  NORTH  ANNA  THROUGH  COLD  HARBOR.      105 

Cold  Harbor.  Though  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  regiment, 
the  duties  of  this  battalion  were  not  unlike  those  of  the  others, 
unless  there  was  a  little  more  digging  among  them.  They 
were  on  picket,  on  reserve,  supporting  batteries,  guarding  am 
munition  trains,  and  in  all  soldierly  ways  making  themselves 
useful.  They  were  in  reserve  on  the  1st  of  June  when  the  rest 
of  the  regiment  was  in  the  fight,  but  their  work  came  at  night, 
when  with  picks  and  shovels  as  well  as  guns  they  moved  up 
to  make  new  or  to  strengthen  old  earthworks.  Occasionally 
they  worked  out  between  foe  and  friend,  and  when  the  ball 
opened  over  them,  as  it  did  occasionally,  it  was  necessary  for 
them  to  lie  very  low.  A  home  letter  of  this  period  says :  "There 
are  twelve  four-gun  batteries,  forty-eight  pieces  in  all.  We  go 
out  at  night  to  the  first  line  of  battle  about  forty  rods  from  the 
rebel  lines  and  work,  building  earthworks  to  mount  heavy 
siege-guns  and  mortars.  We  are  hoping  to  drive  the  rebs  out 
of  their  strong  works,  which  are  surrounded  with  abatis.  Sharp 
shooters  make  the  work  dangerous.  We  leave  at  3  A.  M.  to 
escape  the  daylight  fire.  We  are  subject  at  times  to  heavy 
firing,  but  little  harm  has  been  done." 

A  captain  in  this  battalion  writes  thus  to  his  wife  June  9: 
"I  am  getting  very  unsteady,  for  I  am  out  all  night,  every 
night,  and  lie  in  bed  till  noon.  Am  just  up  to  write  to  you. 
12  M.  Lying  in  my  little  tent,  about  four  feet  high,  I  pass  the 
most  of  the  day.  I  can  give  you  no  idea  of  my  home  better 
than  for  you  to  take  two  small  sheets,  fasten  together  an  edge 
of  each  and  lay  them  over  a  pole,  sustained  four  feet  from  the 
ground;  spread  out  the  corners  and  stake  them  down;  throw 
in  several  boughs  for  carpet  and  bed,  and  it  is  done.  Front 
and  back  doors  open  at  all  times.  We  went  out  yesterday  after 
noon  to  work  under  flag  of  truce.  Just  got  to  work  when  it 
was  withdrawn,  and  our  batteries  opened  briskly.  It  made 
the  men  stare  to  see  how  near  to  the  rebs  we  had  been  at  work 
at  night.  We  had  built  a  fort  twelve  feet  high,  mounted  four 
guns,  run  out  flanks  and  parallels,  and  are  ready  to  open  fire 
at  any  time.  Our  company  gets  great  praise  for  its  work,  and 


E  and  G,  were  in  the  brigade.  He  was  by  the  side  of  General  Sedge - 
wick  on  the  9th  of  May,  '64,  when  the  latter  was  killed  at  Spottsyl- 
vania,  and  his  arms  received  the  general  as  he  fell.  Col.  Tompkins 
won  distinguished  honors  in  the  valley,  and  was  mustered  out  as 
brigadier  general  in  1865. 


106  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

I  know  that  it  deserves  it.  There  is  not  so  much  chance  for 
glory  in  our  duties  as  in  charges,  assaults,  etc.,  but  it  is  a  satis 
faction  to  know  that  what  is  given  us  to  do,  we  do  well,  and 
though  the  shovel  is  slow  it  is  sure,  and  saves  life  and  limb. 
The  rebel  works  are  very  strong,  and  no  assault  can  be  made 
without  great  loss.  There  was  a  battery  in  our  front  which  a 
week  ago  annoyed  us  very  much.  It  could  not  be  assaulted  and 
carried,  nor  silenced  by  our  batteries,  so  we  took  our  shovels 
and  picks,  and  in  two  nights  put  our  sharpshooters  into  a  posi 
tion  from  which  the  rebs  could  not  drive  them,  nor  could  they 
use  their  own  guns,  and  so  had  to  evacuate.  I  tell  you,  'spades 
are  trumps'  here." 

Sometimes  their  digging  unearthed  the  dead  of  the  early 
days  of  the  fight,  and  the  stench  therefrom  was  horrible.  One 
officer  narrates  his  experience  in  taking  a  drink  from  his  can 
teen.  "A  rebel  bullet  went  clean  through  it,  when  Michael 
— ,  with  rare  presence  of  mind,  put  his  hands  over  both 
holes  and  poured  the  precious  contents  into  an  empty  canteen." 
June  8th  a  newspaper  correspondent  was  marched  around  the 
lines  with  placards  on  back  and  breast  narrating  his  besetting 
sins.  It  was  a  sorry  occasion  for  him.  Though  not  in  the 
midst  of  the  heaviest  fighting,  every  day  brought  some  mis 
chief  to  the  men  of  these  companies  so  that  they,  too,  were 
glad  to  see  indications  of  withdrawal,  for  the  same  orders  were 
obeyed  at  nearly  the  same  time. 

The  official  data  from  our  own  officers  concerning  Cold  Har 
bor  are  very  meagre.  Major  Charles  Burgess,  then  command 
ing  the  regiment,  under  date  Sept.  8, 1864,  thus  reports  to  A.  Av 
adjutant  general  of  the  brigade:  "On  the  night  of  the  27th  and 
the  28th  the  regiment  marched  with  the  division  to  the  Pa- 
munkey,  and  on  the  29th  toward  Cold  Harbor.  This  day  we 
were  in  charge  of  and  covered  the  wagon-train.  Being  in  the 
rear  on  the  night  of  the  29th  we  were  ordered  to  report  to 
Colonel  Edwards,*  who  detailed  two  companies  for  picket-duty 
with  his  command.  On  the  30th  Companies  D  and  M,  with 
part  of  E  under  Major  Charles  Burgess,  were  detailed  for 
picket-duty  in  the  front,  and  did  not  join  the  regiment  until 
the  2d  of  June.  On  the  31st  Companies  F,  G,  I  and  L,  under 
command  of  Major  James  W.  Snyder,  were  detached  from  the 
regiment,  and  were  placed  in  the  artillery  brigade.  On  the 
night  of  the  31st  the  two  companies,  under  Colonel  Edwards, 

*Colonel  Oliver  Edwards,  37th  Massachusetts,  commanding  the  3d 
Brigade,  1st  Division. 


FROM   COLD    HARBOR   TO   PETERSBURG.  107 

being  relieved  from  picket,  joined  the  regiment,  which  joined 
the  brigade  and  arrived  at  Cold  Harbor  at  noon.  The  regi 
ment  proper,  Companies  A,  B,  C,  H,  K,  and  part  of  E,  partici 
pated  in  the  action  on  the  1st  of  June,  being  posted  one-half  in 
the  front  line  and  the  remainder  in  the  second  line  of  battle, 
charging  the  works  of  the  enemy  in  that  position.  On  the 
morning  of  the  2d  of  June  the  command  under  Major  Charles 
Burgess  joined  the  regiment,  and  participated  in  the  action  of 
June  3d." 

On  the  3d  of  June  Colonel  John  W.  Horn  assumed  temporary 
command  of  the  brigade  on  account  of  the  illness  of  Colonel 
B.  F.  Smith.  The  latter  resumed  command  June  12.  It  will 
be  remembered  that  General  Kiefer  was  absent  at  this  time, 
having  been  wounded  in  the  Wilderness  May  5. 

General  Thomas  W.  Hyde  in  his  "Following  the  Greek  Cross" 
says,  page  211:  "This  battle  was  a  series  of  attacks  all  along 
the  line,  which  was  five  or  six  miles  long.  Its  management 
would  have  shamed  a  cadet  in  his  first  year  at  West  Point. 

Seldom  could  we  gain  a  foothold  even  for  a  moment 

That  we  lost  15,000  men  and  the  enemy  1,500,  is  commentary 
enough  on  the  generalship  of  the  commanding  general  at  this 
stage  of  his  career.  .  .  .  It  is  very  interesting  to  revisit  the 
battlefields  of  the  war,  but  I  have  never  heard  anyone  who  was 
engaged  there  express  a  wish  to  seek  Cold  Harbor  again.  Its 
vast  upheaval  of  earth  in  fort  and  rifle-pit,  in  transverse  and 
covered  way,  may  now  have  yielded  to  the  sun,  the  rain,  and 
the  plow,  but  it  remains  in  memory  the  'Golgotha  of  American 
Historv.'  " 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

FROM  COLD  HARBOR  TO  PETERSBURG. 

Having  thrown  up  fortifications  that  the  enemy  could  by  no 
means  overcome,  and  not  caring  to  waste  more  lives  in  endeav 
oring  to  capture  them,  at  the  same  time  keeping  up  such  a 
show  of  aggressiveness  that  the  Confederates  all  thought  us 
still  in  position,  General  Grant  resumed  his  flank  movement, 
and  on  the  night  of  June  12th  we  noiselessly  withdrew,  and 
the  13th  revealed  to  General  Lee  only  our  empty  trenches, 
while  their  late  occupants  were  getting  down  towards  the 


108  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

James  river.  The  roads  had  become  deep  with  dust,  the  sun 
was  like  a  ball  of  fire,  but  we  toil  on  with  a  southerly  trend, 
crossing  the  Chickahominy  at  Jones'  bridge.  The  name  of  the 
stream  recalls  all  that  we  had  read  in  1862  of  the  tiresome 
campaign  along  its  banks.  The  appearance  of  the  country 
improves  as  we  advance — grassy  plains,  fields  of  standing 
grain,  lovely  flowers,  all  cheer  us  after  the  desolation  of  Cold 
Harbor.  On  the  14th  we  approach  the  James  river,  through 
Charles  City  Court  House,  and  pitch  our  tents  on  ground  that 
had  its  gloss  of  history  before  the  Pilgrims  landed  at  Plymouth, 
for  we  are  told  that  a  tree  surrounded  by  a  brick  wall  marked 
the  place  where  Pocahontas  saved  the  life  of  Captain  John 
Smith.  Just  a  few  miles  below  us  is  all  that  is  left  of  James 
town,  and  near  by  is  the  roomy  mansion  of  John  Tyler,  the 
first  accidental  president  of  the  United  States.  Some  irre 
pressible  soldiers  visit  the  place,  partake  of  food  within  its 
historic  walls,  and  bring  away  teacups  as  relics.  Others  have 
been  there  before,  as  the  floors  strewn  with  books  and  sheet 
music  amply  testify. 

But  even  here  we  must  work.  The  15th  a  corduroy  road 
must  be  laid  as  an  approach  to  the  long  pontoon  bridge  which 
here  spans  the  river.  More  than  200  boats  were  thus  employed, 
and  as  the  current  was  strong  and  the  tide  had  a  movement  of 
four  feet,  it  was  necessary  to  attach  the  boats  to  anchored  vessels 
above  and  below.  A  drove  of  cattle  driven  across  the  bridge 
afforded  us  no  little  fun,  showing  us  how  four-footed  animals 
look  in  an  intoxicated  gait.  The  river  was  filled  with  shipping, 
and  on  the  shore  was  a  small  hamlet,  where  some  of  the  boys 
interviewed  an  aged  colored  man  who  claimed  to  be  108  years 
old,  and  yet  sighed  for  liberty.  Foraging  is  common,  and  there 
are  few  soldiers  who  do  not  get  a  taste  of  fresh  meat  grown  on 
this  sacred  soil.  We  are  at  Wilcox's  Landing,  said  to  be  two 
miles  below  the  more  noted  Harrison's.  Sutler's  stores  could 
be  had  for  cash,  though  lemons  cost  ten  cents  apiece  and 
tobacco  two  dollars  a  plug.  Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  16th, 
we  cross  the  James  upon  a  transport,  and  after  a  short  march 
camp  for  the  night.  Drew  three  days'  rations  on  the  17th,  and 
went  aboard  transports  again  and  steamed  up  the  river  to  City 
Point,  where  we  stopped  briefly,  and  some  were  fortunate 
enough  to  get  a  supply  of  pickles  from  the  Sanitary  Commis 
sion.  Landed  at  Point  of  Eocks  and  marched  to  Bermuda 


FROM   COLD   HARBOR  TO   PETERSBURG.  109 

Hundred,  made  famous  in  connection  with  the  name  of  B.  F. 
Butler.  Hard  by  was  the  tallest  framework  erected  for  a  sig 
nal-stand  that  we  had  ever  seen.  It  stood  on  Cobb's  hill,  and 
was  200  feet  high,  having  a  platform  nine  feet  square  at  the 
top.  Observers  were  generally  raised  by  a  windlass  and  in  a 
basket,  though  they  could  climb  by  ladders  if  they  preferred. 
The  2d  Division  of  our  corps  had  gone  on  to  Petersburg,  while 
we  of  the  1st  and  3d  were  up  here  to  help  Butler  in  some  way. 
After  usual  marching  and  detours,  we  go  into  camp.  The  works 
constructed  under  the  direction  of  General  Q.  A.  Gilmore 
seemed  to  be  strength  itself.  Evidently  we  are  off  here  for  a 
purpose,  but  as  "heaven  from  all  creatures  hides  the  book  of 
fate,"  so  to  the  rank  and  file  the  future  is  wholly  inscrutable, 
and  what  that  purpose  is  we  do  not  know.  Years  later  we 
learned  that  our  divisions  were  directed  to  charge  the  rebel 
fortifications,  but  to  General  Wright's  practiced  eye  the  project 
was  not  feasible.  It  is  said  that  General  Butler  sent  to  him 
one  of  his  peculiar  messages  to  this  effect:  "I  send  you  an  order 
to  fight;  you  send  me  an  argument."  In  Butler's  book  it  ap 
pears  that  Wright's  corps  was  not  the  one  he  wanted.  He  was 
very  particular.  We  suited  Sheridan.  Some  of  us  will  recall 
the  stories  told  of  telegraph  wire  interlacing  the  stumps  and 
trees,  thus  to  entrap  the  unwary  Union  soldiers  should  they 
undertake  the  assault. 

However,  on  the  18th  we  do  go  out  through  our  works,  and 
form  a  long  line  in  front  of  them.  Here  Colonel  Seward  ad 
dresses  us  and  tells  us  what  we  are  expected  to  do;  his  first 
speech  to  us  since  taking  command  of  the  regiment.  But  we 
are  not  to  contribute  to  the  battle  record  this  day,  for  soon  an 
elderly  officer,  apparently  one  in  authority,  appears,  and  we 
are  ordered  back.  So  out  we  go,  the  rebels  giving  us  some 
parting  though  ineffectual  reminders  of  their  proximity.  It 
was  amusing  to  note  the  haste  that  some  men  manifested  as 
they  were  getting  out  of  this  wilderness.  To  some  of  us  the 
whole  business  seemed  like  marching  up  the  hill  and  then 
marching  down  again.  Many  will  remember  the  hopper  or 
machine  cannon,  an  early  Gatling,  which  had  given  the  enemy 
no  little  trouble.  In  assaulting  our  lines,  they  had  tested  its 
efficiency;  indeed,  they  were  reported  to  have  said  that  the 
Yanks  had  a  gun  that  they  just  wound  up  and  it  ran  all  night. 
We  are  northeast  of  Petersburg  and  less  than  ten  miles  away 
from  it.  Our  gunboats  do  not  go  above  this  point. 


110 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


The  19th  of  June  we  spent  largely  in  the  trenches,  and  in 
the  afternoon  we  retrace  our  steps,  crossing  the  Appomattox 
near  Point  of  Rock  on  a  long  pontoon  bridge  overspread  with 
hay,  we  think,,  to  deaden  the  sound  of  our  footsteps.  Our  di 
rection  is  that  of  Petersburg,  in  whose  vicinity  we  camp  late 
at  night. 

The  morning  of  the  20th  revealed  us  near  the  rebel  intrench- 
ments,  so  near  that  their  shells  rendered  the  drawing  of  rations 
uncomfortable,  and  we  politely  withdrew  a  respectful  distance, 
and  a  considerable  part  of  the  day  was  restfully  spent  in  the 
woods.  A  careful  chronicler  states  that  a  negro  was  hanged 
this  day  for  rape.  He  does  not  state  by  whom  the  deed  was 
done  nor  where,  but  merely  enters  it  as  an  act  of  signal  justice; 
a  forerunner,  it  would  seem,  of  the  hundreds  of  lynching*  of 
later  years.  The  20th  may  be  given  as  the  date  of  reaching 
what  we  called  Petersburg.  Of  course  the  city  w^as  many  miles 
away,  but  we  were  as  near  it  as  we  were  likely  to  be  for  many 
a  long  and  weary  month.  We  are  south  of  the  city,  and  we 
lose  no  time  in  proceeding  to  breastwork  making;  we  take  to 
it  naturally.  By  this  time,  we  had  become  expert  cooks  of 
what  was  given  us  or  of  what  we  could  draw  from  the  enemy, 
of  course  it  being  assumed  that  all  natives  were  such.  Also 
what  Albert  D.  Richardson  called  entomological  researches  had 
become  a  sad  necessity,  and  every  man  to  cleanliness  inclined  had 
to  thoroughly  inspect  his  garments  for  the  Corporis  pediculus, 


From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 


FROM   COLD   HARBOR  TO   PETERSBURG.  Ill 

or  body-louse.  He  was  no  respecter  of  persons,  and  an  officer's 
body  was  no  more  to  him  than  that  of  the  smallest  private  in 
the  ranks.  The  sight  of  rows  of  shirtless  men  regardless  of 
military  distinction,  engaged  in  closely  inspecting  every  seam, 
and  at  intervals  using  both  thumb-nails  in  a  sort  of  roller-like 
motion,  was  one  to  excite  amazement,  and  a  frequent  thought 
was,  "What  would  our  folks  say  if  they  could  see  us?" 

Though  the  long  siege  of  Petersburg  had  begun,  we  were 
not  to  settle  down  in  one  place  for  any  length  of  time.  At 
nightfall  the  6th  Corps  moved  out  to  the  Jerusalem  plank  road, 
forming  on  the  left  of  the  2d  Corps;  then  came  the  3d,  and 
finally  the  2d  Corps  at  the  very  left,  with  one  brigade  facing 
to  the  left  and  rear.  It  was  another  dance  in  the  dark,  but 
skirmishers  were  thrown  out  and  we  advanced  till  we  reached 
the  enemy's  pickets,  who  were  driven  in.  Our  order  to  halt 
was  followed  by  one  to  intrench,  but  we  had  no  utensils  with 
us  save  one  shovel.  But  the  earth  was  loosened  by  bayonets, 
and  once  more  cups,  spoons  and  plates  proved  to  be  very 
effectual.  Five  rods  in  front,  at  the  edge  of  a  dense  woods,  was 
a  fine  rail-fence,  which  we  noiselessly  abstracted  and  worked 
into  the  inside  of  our  defenses.  Three  hours  of  this  hard  work 
produced  a  line  of  works  that  would  have  been  exceedingly 
useful  in  case  of  an  attack,  but  we  were  not  disturbed,  though 
there  was  squabbling  as  to  who  should  have  the  best  places 
along  our  intrenched  line.  The  tinkling  of  a  cow-bell  away 
in  the  darkness  suggested  lacteal  possibilities  that  some  of  our 
men  would  have  availed  themselves  of  had  they  not  been  re 
strained  by  those  who  said  it  was  simply  a  rebel  device  to  cap 
ture  some  thirsty  Yank.  Morning  brought  the  wagon-train 
with  intrenching  tools,  and  the  22d  of  June  saw  us  with  a  well- 
equipped  line  of  works  before  us;  but  it  was  not  a  case  of  "In 
place,  rest,"  for  in  line  we  advanced  over  our  works,  into  and 
through  a  piece  of  woods,  likewise  into  a  second,  where  the 
enemy's  bullets  began  to  hum  right  merrily.  There  was  noth 
ing  to  record  for  the  day  save  the  occasional  carrying  back  of 
a  wounded  man.  At  4  P.  M.  or  thereabouts  we  about-face  and 
march  back  to  our  starting-place.  After  making  coffee,  we 
resumed  our  position  in  line  and  again  advanced,  thinking  this 
time  it  meant  something.  Possibly  there  was  no  occasion  in  the 
regiment's  history  where  the  book's  description  of  a  charge  was 
so  fully  realized  as  on  this. 


112  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

The  sun  was  near  his  setting,  but  there  was  still  light  enough 
to  see  clearly  a  long  way  ahead.  It  appeared  that  we  were  too 
far  to  the  left,  so  we  were  halted,  and  the  command  to  fix 
bayonets  was  given.  It  was  obeyed  in  a  jiffy;  the  colonel  was 
on  horseback,  and  skirmishing  in  front  clearly  indicated  the  pres 
ence  of  the  enemy.  For  the  first  time,  on  such  an  occasion,  we 
were  in  the  first  line,  and  then  we  heard  the  words,  "Eight  face, 
forward,  march!"  and  we  went  a  short  distance,  no  one  could 
tell  how  far,  when  the  colonel's  voice  rang  out,  "By  the  left 
flank,  double  quick,  charge!"  and  away  we  went  yelling  at  the 
top  of  our  voices,  and  expecting  every  moment  to  be  saluted 
with  leaden  hail.  The  speed  with  which  we  advanced  and  the 
irregular  surface  soon  broke  up  our  alignment,  and  to  crown 
all,  before  we  had  charged  a  great  ways  we  came  into  full  view 
of  earthworks,  presumably  well  manned.  Thus  far  we  had 
encountered  only  desultory  firing.  Nearer  and  nearer  we  come 
to  the  works,  and  wonder  when  the  stream  of  fire  will  blaze 
from  them,  possibly  checking  our  advance.  In  much  less  time 
than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  we  were  over  the  works  and  through 
the  camp,  which  the  foe  had  left  precipitately.  They  forsook 
their  supper  in  preparation,  and  in  no  way  stood  on  the  order 
of  their  going,  but  what  they  left  was  not  to  our  liking,  for 
we  had  no  relish  for  their  cooking,  and,  besides,  we  wanted 
the  cooks  themselves;  but  the  latter,  judging  by  our  yells,  had 
thought  the  whole  army  of  the  Potomac  after  them,  and  taking 
their  guns  the  Johnnies  had  gone.  We  followed  through  the 
woods  and  across  an  open  field,  on  the  other  side  of  which  the 
trees  were  burning.  Notwithstanding  this,  some  of  the  men 
dashed  on,  but  the  majority  heard  the  order  to  halt. 

Night  was  upon  us,  and  all  we  knew  was  that  we  were  still 
on  the  earth.  It  seemed  a  long  time  before  the  second  line 
came  up,  so  rapidly  had  we  rushed  through  the  works.  We 
were  ready  to  regain  our  breath,  and  to  rest.  After  a  while 
we  marched  a  short  distance  to  our  right,  and  lay  down.  Here 
we  passed  the  night.  The  23d  was  a  day  on  which  the  careful 
soldier  needed  eyes  all  around  his  head,  for  our  enemy  seemed 
to  be  on  every  hand,  and  we  threw  up  works  that  could  be 
defended  on  either  side.  Things  put  on  a  very  lively  air  at 
nightfall,  for  bullets  came  seemingly  from  every  direction.  Our 
defenses  helped  us  on  one  side  only.  We  were  like  sheep  in  the 
shambles  till  there  came  a  welcome  command  to  fall  in,  and 


FROM   COLD   HARBOR  TO   PETERSBURG.  113 

with  guns  and  shovels  shouldered  we  began  our  retreat,  lying 
down  when  the  firing  was  heaviest,  and  marching  between  the 
volleys.  The  dense  darkness  was  our  shield,  and  at  last  we 
came  in  sight  of  the  works  constructed  by  us  on  the  21st. 

Our  step  was  almost  jaunty  as  we  took  our  former  stations, 
for  now  we  knew  where  the  rebels  were;  unmistakably  they 
were  before  us;  a  few  moments  before  they  had  been  all  about 
us.  Then  followed  a  good  night's  rest,  and  on  the  morning  of 
the  24th  came  the  order  to  clear  off  the  surface  back  of  us  and 
to  pitch  our  tents  in  systematic  order,  a  task  so  unfamiliar  that 
we  had  almost  forgotten  how.  This  was  the  first  rest  for  the 
Ninth  since  leaving  Belle  Plain.  Headquarters  and  regimental 
wagons  came  up  for  the  first  time,  and  in  the  following  days 
there  was  an  opportunity  to  boil  our  shirts  and  socks,  and 
otherwise  contribute  to  cleanliness.  Picket-duty  was  done  in 
turn  by  all  the  companies,  but  nothing  more  startling  than  the 
visits  of  the  grand  rounds  ensued,  though  members  of  one  com 
pany  insist  on  stating  that  one  of  their  number,  on  vidette, 
snored  so  loudly  that  they  heard  him  on  their  post.  They  found 
him  stretched  out  at  full  length,  perfectly  indifferent  to  friend 
or  foe.  As  he  was  a  man  much  older  than  the  others,  they  did 
not  place  him  thus  again,  not  caring  to  take  the  risk  both  on 
their  own  account,  and  on  his  as  well,  nor  did  they  report  him. 
Fatigue,  too,  began  again,  and  the  company  streets  were  po 
liced,  and  regimental  headquarters  had  to  be  embellished  with 
leafy  boughs,  etc.  Very  slight  infractions  sufficed  to  put  a 
man  on  extra  duty.  It  is  on  record  that  Chaplain  Mudge 
preached  Sunday,  the  26th.  On  the  28th  the  remainder  of  the 
67th  Pennsylvania,  under  command  of  Colonel  John  F.  Stan- 
ton,  joined  the  brigade. 

The  29th  day  brought  a  review  by  General  Wright,  and  in  the 
afternoon  an  advance  to  Beams'  Station  on  the  Weldon  rail 
road,  it  afterwards  appeared,  for  the  purpose  of  co-operating 
with  Kautz  and  Wilson,  who  were  there  expected  to  come  in 
from  their  raid.  It  was  late,  and  no  sooner  had  we  got  our 
coffee  under  way  than  we  were  ordered  to  move  some  rods  to 
the  right.  Again  we  had  begun  the  all-important  coffee  pro 
cess  when  the  inevitable  move-over  order  was  heard.  By  this 
time  the  temper  of  our  worthy  colonel  was  thoroughly  roiled, 
and  bridling  up  we  heard  him  say,  distinctly  and  emphatically, 
"Present  my  compliments  to  General ,  and  tell  him  that 

8 


114 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


this  regiment  will  not  move  again  to-night."  We  thought 
cheers  if  we  did  not  utter  them;  not  that  our  camping-place 
was  particularly  good,  for  many  of  us  were  insulated  on  grassy 
tussocks  somewhat  moist  in  their  nature,  but  we  did  want  to 
rest.  We  were  finding  that  the  proverbial  three  times  turning- 
round  of  a  canine  before  stretching  himself  out  at  length,  was 
nothing  to  what  an  army  really  does  before  it  camps.  We 
were  not  again  disturbed  during  the  night,  but  took  our  coffee 
and  hardtack  in  peace. 

The  30th  and  last  day  of  June  brought  more  digging,  our 
normal  occupation.  So  constantly  were  we  at  this  that  the 
rebs  said  of  us  that  we  would  burrow  out  of  sight  like  the 
rabbits,  and  almost  as  quickly.  Muster  came,  and  with  it  an  ob 
servation  from  Colonel  Seward  that  some  of  the  recruits  were 
inexpressibly  awkward.  He  ordered  many  of  the  men  to  step 
out,  and  gave  directions  to  have  them  specially  tutored,  but 
officers  were  quite  too  busy  to  give  much  attention  to  awkward 
squads.  The  men  knew  how  to  march  and  shoot,  really  the 
only  two  requisites  at  this  time.  Many  a  man  in  the  Ninth  re 
called  this  day  as  a  red-letter  one  in  his  calendar,  for  did  he 
not  here  find  goodly  stores  of  food  among  the  people,  and  how 
ready  he  was  to  appropriate  what  he  needed?  Here  is  a  brief 
enumeration:  flour,  corn-meal,  lard,  new  potatoes,  preserves, 
fresh  pork  —  what  more  could  he  want?  Time  has  not  effaced 
the  memory  of  the  scalding  day,  nor  how  the  members  of  the 
different  messes  worked  to  get  up  a  variety.  The  fire  beneath 
his  skillet  was  scarcely  hotter  than  that  which  the  sun  poured 

down  on  both  him  and  his 
frying-pan  —  but  weren't  those 
slap-jacks  good?  He  had  his 
choice  of  dressing  for  them— 
flour-gravy,  or  sorghum  that 
the  Confederacy  also  supplied. 
Did  this  feast  for  so  many 
men  leave  families  hungry? 
Doubtless,  and  at  this  period, 
it  seems  as  though  the  homes 
should  have  been  left  un 
touched,  but  we  were  hungry 

n()t  nQW  .  besides> 


From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  pension. 


"All's  fair  in  love  and  war"  was  on  every  tongue.       With 


FROM   COLD   HARBOR  TO   PETERSBURG.  115 

intervening  time  and  distance,  moralizing  is  easy;  no  one 
thought  of  it  then.  Why!  one  man  had  no  hesitation  in  saying 
that  a  woman,  claiming  to  be  ill,  was  lying  on  a  bed  under 
which  he  found  most  of  his  stolen  articles.  He  always  said 
he  took  them  because  she  lied  to  him,  saying  there  was  nothing 
edible  in  the  house,  and  of  course  no  soldier  could  tolerate 
lying,  not  even  in  bed.  Our  mission  was  to  inculcate  the  high 
est  morality. 

Though  we  were  thinking  we  might  remain  here  some  time, 
we  were  doomed  to  disappointment,  for  before  night  we  were 
marched  by  way  of  Jerusalem  plank  road  to  a  point  near  the 
Williams  house,  and  halted  between  9  and  10  o'clock,  natural 
ly  in  a  corn-field,  though  we  had  just  passed  through  a  beauti 
ful  field  of  standing  grass.  However,  it  is  probable  that  some 
other  regiment  had  it  if  we  didn't.  The  1st  of  July  was  mainly 
spent  in  this  place  sunning  ourselves  in  the  dirt  after  the  manner 
of  fowls,  though  guard-duty  is  done  at  the  houses  of  some  of 
the  people  nominally  Union,  but  we  have  our  doubts.  Some 
of  the  good  things  of  yesterday's  feast  hold  over,  so  that  on;> 
more  unusual  meal  is  possible.  At  night  we  packed  up  and 
went  on  again,  but  for  only  a  short  distance,  and  this  time  luck 
was  ours,  for  we  got  the  grass,  and  were  literally  in  clover. 
Then  was  heard  the  order  to  pitch  our  tents,  but  some  of  us 
have  learned  to  take  certain  directions  by  the  rule  of  contraries. 
The  above  order  was  too  often  followed,  when  the  tents  were 
well  up,  with  a  command  to  pack  up  and  fall  in,  while  a  sim 
ple  "In  place,  rest,"  very  often  presaged  a  halt  of  many  hours. 
The  night  was  bright  and  clear,  the  stars  radiant,  and  it  was 
a  pleasure  to  look  away  to  them  without  any  intervening  tent, 
for  somehow  then  home  seemed  nearer,  since  those  same  lumi 
naries  were  shining  on  far  away  western  New  York  as  well 
as  on  Virginia.  Scarcely  had  sleep  touched  our  eyelids  ere 
we  were  ordered  up  and  into  line.  Soon  we  were  off  on  an  all- 
night's  tramp.  How  monotonous  those  interminable  Virginia 
pine  forests  seemed.  No  variety,  but  one  unbroken  array  of 
dull,  lonesome,  sighing  trees.  Much  of  the  country  was  covered 
with  second  growth,  which  seemingly  had  followed  fields  of 
corn,  spontaneously.  It  was  a  common  remark  among  the  sol 
diers,  as  they  fitted  their  bodies  into  the  depressions  between 
what  had  been  hills  of  corn  in  the  long  ago,  "These  blanked 
rebels  have  been  getting  ready  for  the  war  more  than  thirty 
years ;  they  couldn't  fight  without  trees." 


116  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Night-marching  made  men  dull,  morose,  and  cross,  all  anx 
iously  looking  for  the  dawn,  and  when  at  last  the  eastern  sky 
grew  gray  there  were  men  who  thought,  if  they  did  not  say, — 
"The  morning  light  is  breaking,  the  darkness  disappears;" 

while  they  varied  the  second  part  of  Smith's  glorious  hymn 
somewhat  thus: 

"The  sons  of  earth  are  marching,  'mid  penitential  tears." 

Truly  we  thought  the  breezes  sweeping  o'er,  not  the  ocean, 
but  this  fated  Southland  brought  tidings  from  afar,  not  of 
foreign,  but  domestic  war.  It  was  morn  of  July  2d  when  our 
long  march  ended  where  it  began  when  we  started  for  Reams' 
Station.  The  heat  was  terrible,  and  the  men  took  their  rations 
uncooked  if  possible;  even  coffee-cooking  was  a  serious  task. 
Air  in  motion  was  like  a  simoon,  and  the  dust  was  inches  deep. 
We  were  about  five  miles  south  of  Petersburg  at  Williams 
House.  Picket-duty  was  a  relief,  and  men  hailed  its  imposition 
with  pleasure,  though  they  moved  out  that  night  in  the  midst 
of  a  drenching  rain.  It  was  cooling,  and  that  was  what  they 
wanted.  Heavy  thunder  with  lightning  added  variety.  It  was 
when  one  of  the  loudest  peals  was  rattling  through  the  sky 
that  Tom  C.,  having  Grant's  great  flank  movement  in  mind, 
said,  "Look  out,  men,  they  are  flanking  us  above."  The  rain 
ceasing,  and  having  with  rails  made  some  sort  of  a  defense  in 
front  of  the  reserve,  the  following  hours  on  picket  we  pass  not 
unpleasantly. 

To  the  vidette  standing  three  rods  in  front  of  the  post,  it  is 
stated  that  there  is  nothing  between  him  and  the  enemy,  that 
the  safety  of  the  army  depends  on  his  vigilance.  How  acute 
becomes  his  hearing!  The  snapping  of  a  twig  is  surely  the  ap 
proach  of  a  foe,  and  he  peers  into  the  thicket  before  him.  He 
can  not  walk  a  beat,  for  that  would  betray  his  presence.  H^ 
must  be  still  and  just  watch.  However  severe  this  duty  in  the 
day,  it  becomes  doubly  so  in  the  night.  Then  tired  nature  calls 
for  sleep,  but  he  must  not  yield.  The  touching  of  leafy  branches 
in  the  wind  rouses  his  suspicion,  and  the  movement  of  some 
night-prowling  animal  is  surely  the  step  of  a  stealthy  foe.  The 
hours  here  are  so  very,  very  long,  but  even  they  have  an  end, 
and  again  day  gladdens  his  sight.  Though  with  the  morn  came 
rain,  that,  too,  soon  passed  on.  Then  followed  a  faultless  mid 
day,  during  which  some  of  us  studied  the  effects  of  war  as 


FROM   COLD   HARBOR  TO   PETERSBURG.  117 

applied  to  the  plantation  of  one  Henry  Gurly,  M.  D.,  who  had 
departed  with  his  family  on  the  approach  of  our  forces.  His 
faithful  [?]  contrabands  are  left  in  full  possession,  and  they 
occupied  thoroughly.  They  had  ransacked  the  house  and  were 
wearing  every  bit  of  finery  it  afforded;  everything  that  they 
could  by  any  means  use  they  had  appropriated.  They  were 
living  on  the  fat  of  the  land.  The  lines  of  Henry  C.  Work's 
song,  "Kingdom  Coming,"  are  suggested: 

"The  darkeys  feel  so  lonesom  libin' 

In  de  log-house  on  de  lawn; 
They  move  dar  tings  to  massa's  parlor, 

For  to  keep  it  while  he's  gone. 
Dar's  wine  an'  cider  in  de  kitchen, 

An'  de  darkeys  dey'll  hab  some, 
I  s'pose  dey'll  all  be  confiscated, 

When  de  Linkum  sojers  come." 
*     *     *     *     * 

"De  whip  is  lost,  de  han'-cuff  broken, 

But  de  massa  '11  hab  his  pay; 
He's  ole  enough,  big  enough,  ought  to  know  better, 

Dan  to  went  an'  run  away." 

The  elegant  furnishings  were  at  the  mercy  of  the  negro  and 
mischievous  soldiery.  Some  of  the  latter  played  the  piano. 
fortissimo,  and  others  walked  on  it.  The  negro  quarters,  which 
were  numerous  and  populous,  were  curiosities.  There  could  be 
found  much  that  properly  belonged  to  the  house,  but  there  were 
many  articles  that  had  been  given  to  favorite  servants,  who,  in 
turn,  were  ready  to  pass  the  same  along  to  the  soldiers  if  de 
sired. 

Near  the  picket-line  there  were  indications  of  forays  in  the 
shape  of  graves  of  soldiers  so  thinly  covered  as  to  only  partly 
hide  their  sickening  contents. 

The  4th  of  July,  ever  glorious,  found  the  Potomac  Army  be 
fore  Petersburg  and  full  of  patriotic  music.  The  rebels  were 
equally  melodious  with  their  somewhat  limited  repertoire,  but 
by  tacit  consent  there  was  very  little  firing,  though  pickets 
were  told  to  be  particularly  vigilant  for  fear  of  a  surprise. 
Quite  likely  rebel  pickets  had  similar  instructions.  From  some 
source  the  regiment  was  favored  with  loaves  of  soft  bread, 
the  first  since  leaving  Alexandria.  No  one  thought  of  butter 
in  his  eagerness  to  give  hardtack  a  rest,  and  there  were  berries 


118  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

too.  Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  5th,  Lieutenant  Brinkerhoff 
of  Company  A  leads  a  small  party  on  a  reconnoissance,  but 
discovers  nothing  except  a  Johnnie  cavalryman  stealing  oats. 

The  morning  of  the  6th  brought  relief  to  those  on  picket,  and 
they  marched  back  only  to  find  the  other  companies  ready  for 
some  sort  of  an  expedition,  no  one  knew  where. 

The  night  before  tents  had  been  pitched  with  great  precision, 
which  in  itself  augured  an  early  departure.  A  little  after  mid 
night  the  authorities  had  been  ordered  to  march  in  the  morn 
ing  to  City  Point,  and  there  to  take  transports  for  Baltimore, 
and  thence  to  Harper's  Ferry.  This  we  knew  later;  then  we 
had  only  to  "forward,  march."  If  from  the  North  Anna  down  we 
had  a  mud  test  of  our  endurance,  this  day  was  to  give  us  an 
equally  severe  trial  of  dust.  It  did  not  seem  as  though  it  could 
be  ankle  deep  on  the  roads,  so  much  of  it  was  in  the  air.  Dust 
and  perspiration  combined  to  make  facial  effects  never  before 
or  since  surpassed.  No  mother  could  have  recognized  her  own 
son  in  those  "dust-browned  ranks,"  which,  after  fifteen  miles  of 
misery,  at  about  noon  threw  themselves  upon  the  ground  over 
looking  the  dock  at  City  Point.  There  was  very  little  attempt 
at  order  as  we  lay  there,  and  when  on  the  approach  of  General 
Grant,  who  was  picking  his  way  through  and  over  the  prostrate 
men,  some  over-zealous  officer  desired  us  to  stand  at  attention, 
the  great  commander  said:  "No,  lie  still,  men,  and  rest  if  you 
can;"  murmured  blessings  were  called  down  upon  his  head  by 
many  a  boy  who  heard  the  remark.  Food  was  scarce,  but  some 
soldiers  were  fortunate  enough  to  get  supplies  from  the  Christian 
Commission.  Some,  too,  went  aboard  certain  boats  and  slept 
until  ordered  off,  and  then  onto  others.  Meanwhile,  those  upon 
the  shore  were  treated  to  a  variety  of  incidents,  as,  when  three 
luckless  fellows,  sleeping  on  the  edge  of  a  deep  pit  and  in  their 
dreams  tumbled  in,  a  commotion  arose  over  their  discomfiture 
and  extrication.  Later  came  a  great  alarm,  so  noisy  that  a 
general  attack  was  suspected,  though  it  was  really  only  a  team 
of  unruly  mules  trying  to  run  away,  thereby  inducing  a  chorus 
of  "whoas"  from  a  thousand  throats. 

Rations  were  carried  aboard  the  transports,  and  we  started 
away  at  different  hours,  Companies  A,  B,  C  on  the  Winona, 
the  others  on  the  Salvador. 

During  this  period  of  a  little  more  than  three  weeks,  the  3d 
Battalion  had  done  its  work  faithfully,  but  apart  from  the  regi- 


FROM  COLD   HARBOR  TO   PETERSBURG.  119 

ment.  The  march  down  to  the  James  differed  in  no  essential 
feature  from  that  of  the  other  battalions.  The  men  encountered 
the  same  dust,  and  suffered  from  heat  and  hunger  as  did  their 
comrades  in  the  other  eight  companies.  They  boil  wheat  and 
parch  corn  for  food,  meanwhile  complaining  because  guards 
are  placed  in  rebel  houses  and  by  the  wells  so  that  our  men 
have  to  drink  swamp-water.  The  1st  sergeant  of  one  of  the 
companies,  busy  in  making  a  detail  for  picket,  had  his  tent 
pitched  by  his  mate,  and  when,  late  and  very  tired,  he  lifted 
the  flap  of  his  tent,  as  he  supposed,  and  threw  himself  down 
by  the  side  of  his  comrade,  he  did  not  discover  his  error  till 
morning,  when  he  was  aroused  by  the  odor  of  his  bunkie,  and 
found  that  he  had  wandered  near  the  hospital  and  had  been 
sleeping  by  the  side  of  a  corpse.  On  the  16th  the  battalion 
crosses  the  James  at  6  P.  M.  on  a  pontoon  bridge,  made  of  103 
boats,  and  makes  a  night's  march  towards  Petersburg.  The 
17th  brought  the  men  to  the  investing  lines.  It  was  on  this 
march  that  our  boys  met  the  24th  New  York  Cavalry,  which 
had  not  up  to  that  time  been  mounted,  but  with  all  their  yellow 
trappings  were  doing  infantry  service.  Someone  of  ours  sang 
out  as  the  lines  met,  "Well,  boys,  where  are  your  horses?"  The 
reply  was  exceedingly  apt  as  the  cavalryman  answered,  "We 
sent  them  all  down  to  City  Point  to  draw  up  your  cannon." 
It  was  a  frequent  taunt  thrown  at  us  that  we  had  taken  the 
big  guns  off  our  caps  and  placed  them  on  our  shoulders,  but 
such  badinage  bred  no  hard  feelings;  we  were  all  the  merrier 
for  it. 

There  is  plenty  of  firing  all  along  the  lines,  and  the  be 
leaguered  city  can  be  plainly  seen  from  elevated  points.  One 
company  encamped  on  a  planter's  premises  finds  a  number  of 
guns,  sabres  and  other  weapons  of  war,  some  apparently  for 
gotten  in  a  hurried  departure.  On  the  18th  the  battalion 
changed  position.  Captain  Sinclair  was  hit,  not  seriously,  by 
a  piece  of  shell,  on  the  19th.  On  the  20th  those  who  had  the 
good  fortune  to  visit  corps  headquarters  saw  President  Lincoln, 
Secretary  Stanton,  Generals  Grant,  Meade,  and  other  notables. 
June  21st  march  to  the  left  in  southerly  direction  across  Nor 
folk  and  Petersburg  railroad;  at  8  A.  M.,  22d,  halted  six  miles 
south  of  Petersburg.  Till  the  29th  much  time  was  spent  in  the 
rifle-pits  and  in  the  regular  moving,  to  which  the  troops  were 
constantly  subjected.  Wells  are  dug,  and  conveniences  of  camp 


120  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

are  established.  At  3  P.  M.  started  with  corps  to  participate 
in  Wilson's  raid  on  Weldon  railroad.  Several  miles  of  track 
were  torn  up.  Hungry  soldiers,  ever  on  the  alert,  dig  up  wine 
and  other  luxuries  buried  in  gardens.  The  sagacity  of  hungry 
men  at  times  surpasses  the  smelling  record  of  bloodhounds. 

June  30th  a  return  march  of  several  miles  was  begun,  and  a 
camp  was  made  over  the  1st  of  July.  It  was  on  this  backward 
turning  that  A—  -  B —  -  of  Company  I  had  lots  of  fun 
all  by  himself.  He  had  raided  some  countryman,  and  with  coat, 
put  on  over  his  knapsack,  he  was  several  points  ahead  of  the 
famous  hunch-back  of  Notre  Dame.  Wearing,  besides,  a  tall 
hat  and  an  umbrella,  he  excited  the  risibles  of  the  3d  Division 
not  a  little.  Though  falling  out  was  forbidden,  he  somehow 
managed  to  slip  his  orders.  On  the  2d  the  battalion  found  it 
self  in  the  same  place  left  on  the  29th  of  June.  During  this  day 
in  camp  some  of  the  boys  have  the  unusual  luxuries  of  beets 
and  sage  tea.  Could  anything  be  more  absurd  than  that  drink! 
Those  same  boys  would  have  resented  it  at  home,  unless  served 
by  mother  with  an  accompaniment  of  feet  soaking  and  a  direct 
run  to  bed.  Till  the  8th  there  was  little  variation  in  the 
regular  work,  in  the  trenches  or  on  guard  duty.  The  dust  and 
heat  are  memorable.  Company  G  builds  headquarters  for 
Colonel  Thompson,  commanding  the  artillery  brigade,  and  the 
companies  fall  back  half  a  mile  to  a  new  line  of  works.  Al 
ways  there  is  opportunity  to  use  the  shovel,  for  the  breast 
works  were  never  quite  finished.  No  man  can  tell  the  starting- 
place  of  rumors,  but  somehow  the  idea  gains  credence  that 
Breckinridge  and  Ewell  are  near  Harper's  Ferry  and  that  the 
6th  Corps  will  be  sent  north. 

On  the  8th  come  orders  to  pack  up  and  start  for  City  Point; 
at  9  P.  M.  the  boys  were  on  their  way,  and  they  marched  nearly 
all  night  through  indescribable  dust.  Every  face  in  the  morn 
ing  looked  as  though  it  wore  a  mask.'  They  board  the  steamer 
Thomas  Powell  at  9  A.  M.,  and  are  delighted  to  be  free  from 
dust  for  a  short  time.  Few  know  or  care  about  the  object  of 
the  change  from  land  to  water;  but  they  are  grateful  for  a 
little  variation. 


TO  AND  THROUGH  MONOCACY.  121 

CHAPTER     XIV. 

To  AND  THROUGH  MONQCACY. 

The  ride  down  the  James  on  the  7th  of  July  was  an  oasis  in 
the  campaign's  desert.  To  be  sure,  much  of  interest  along  the 
river's  banks  was  passed  in  the  night,  but  we  touched  at  Fort 
ress  Monroe;  we  saw  the  tip  of  a  ship's  mast,  flag-surmounted, 
above  the  water  in  Hampton  Roads,  and  were  told  that  it  was 
that  of  the  Cumberland,  destroyed  by  the  Merrimac  March  8th, 
1862;  in  the  distance  we  might  have  seen  the  seminary  to  be  in 
after  years  a  National  Soldiers'  Home,  and  near  it  the  site  of 
the  Hampton  Institute,  to  be  the  place  for  educating  negroes 
and  Indians,  under  General  Armstrong.  We  pass  in  sight  of 
Capes  Charles  and  Henry,  thus  named  by  Sir  Christopher  Gos- 
nold  in  a  spirit  of  loyalty,  and  we  have  a  chance  to  reflect  on 
the  intensely  English  character  of  our  surroundings,  for  till 
we  swing  around  into  Chesapeake  bay  we  are  riding  on  the 
James,  named  for  the  father  of  the  two  princes,  whose  appella 
tions  bid  fair  to  ever  grace  these  two  noteworthy  points.  The 
vessels  bearing  the  division  do  not  keep  together;  indeed, 
some  troops,  including  the  division  commander,  are  distanced, 
and  Scriptures  are  again  vindicated,  for  the  last  have  become 
first. 

This  trip  up  the  bay  could  not  have  been  more  pleasant, 
though  our  boat  had  been  a  stock  transport,  and  still  bore  un 
mistakable  traces  of  the  stable.  As  we  passed  the  mouth  of  the 
Potomac,  it  became  evident  that  Washington  was  not  our  desti 
nation.  Having  rations  in  abundance,  with  plenty  of  leisure, 
there  was  nothing  to  prevent  the  soldiers  having  a  good  time. 
Many  letters  were  written,  and  it  was  not  an  infrequent  sight 
to  see  a  score  of  lines  trailing  along  behind  the  boat.  To  each 
one  there  was  attached  at  least  one  soldier's  shirt;  we  were  not 
fishing,  though  some,  knowing  well  our  entomological  condition, 
did  suggest  live  bait  for  sharks.  It  was  an  opportunity  to  give 
one's  garments  a  good  soaking  and  their  denizens  a  pickling, 
and  we  felt  cleaner  for  the  operation.  Night  shut  down  upon 
us  while  we  were  steaming  southward,  and  we  gave  ourselves 
to  dustless  sleep.  Early  on  the  morning  of  the  8th  of  July,  we 
were  docked  somewhere,  but  no  one  seemed  to  know  just  the 
place. 


122  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

The  rising  sun  soon  disclosed  such  an  abundance  of  chimneys 
and  steeples  that  we  were  sure  that  Baltimore  was  the  name, 
and  our  impressions  were  soon  confirmed.  The  docks  are  early 
a  scene  of  lively  preparation  for  eating  and  departure.  Soldiers 
of  an  investigating  nature  make  tours,  more  or  less  predatory, 
in  the  neighborhood,  and  secure  variations  in  the  monotony  of 
army  rations.  Our  stay  here,  however,  is  brief,  for  soon  after 
7  A.  M.  we  are  off  in  a  westerly  direction.  Passing  the  Relay 
House  and  keeping  the  main  line  of  the  Baltimore  &  Ohio  rail 
road,  we  are  certain  that  Harper's  Ferry  is  sought.  Possibly 
there  could  be  no  stronger  contrast  than  that  of  the  dust-cov 
ered,  war-devastated  region  which  we  had  left  in  Virginia  and 
the  verdant,  fertile  country  through  which  the  train  was  rapid 
ly  bearing  us.  Here  were  people  at  home  and  at  work,  a  novel 
sight  to  our  eyes,  and  the  flag  of  the  Union  was  in  evidence  on 
many  a  house  and  yard.  Our  train,  made  up  of  freight  and 
cattle  cars,  was  not  running  at  express  rate,  for  danger  lurked 
near  every  southern  and  border  road,  so  it  was  considerably 
past  noon  when  we  drew  up  at  Monocacy  Junction,  fifty-four 
miles  west  of  Baltimore.  Though  many  alight  to  purchase  food 
of  the  hucksters,  who  have  numerous  tents  here,  the  train  soon 
moves  across  the  Monocacy  river,  and  then,  instead  of  keeping 
the  main  track  to  Harper's  Ferry,  deflects  to  the  right  and 
passes  on  to  Frederick  City,  that  famed  place  which  Whittier 
had  already  rendered  immortal  in  his  "Barbara  Frietchie." 
Though  we  were  ahead  of  some  parts  of  our  division,  we  were 
by  no  means  the  first  to  pass  over  this  route.  At  8  A.  M.  the 
10th  Vermont  and  the  14th  New  Jersey  of  the  1st  Brigade  had 
gone  on  to  Frederick,  and  had  been  doing  their  best  to  make 
the  enemy  believe  that  a  large  force  was  opposing. 

At  this  point  a  statement  should  be  made  as  to  just  why  we 
were  thus  so  far  away  from  the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  The 
Lynchburg  campaign  of  General  Hunter  had  left  open  the 
valley  of  the  Shenandoah,  and  Lee  was  not  slow  to  improve  the 
opportunity  to  replenish  his  stores  from  the  granary  of  Vir 
ginia  after  the  familiar  fashion  of  preceding  years.  Accord 
ingly,  Early  with  the  old  soldiers  of  "Stonewall  Jackson"  are 
sent  out  to  forage,  pillage,  and  if  possible  to  make  a  diversion 
of  Grant's  forces  before  Petersburg,  through  an  assault  upon 
Washington,  for  the  vise-like  hold  of  the  new  Union  leader  had 
become  extremely  irksome  to  the  Confederate  commander  and 


MAJOR   GENERAL   LEW   WALLACE, 
Commanding  at  Monocacy. 


TO  AND  THROUGH  MONOCACY.  123 

his  followers.  That  Lee  had  thus  disposed  of  a  part  of  his 
force,  the  Union  authorities  could  hardly  be  made  to  believe. 
Numerous  dispatches  are  in  existence  whereby  President  J.  W. 
Garrett  of  the  Baltimore  &  Ohio  railroad  finally  convinced 
Halleck,  Grant  and  Meade  that  some  attention  must  be  paid 
to  the  Union  rear;  hence  the  sudden  departure  of  the  3d  Divi 
sion  on  the  6th  of  July,  and  the  later  following  to  Washington 
of  the  1st  and  2d  Divisions. 

We  are  all  at  sea,  for  no  one  appeared  to  really  know 
how  many  men  were  in  Early's  army,  and  there  was  only  a 
general  knowledge  as  to  his  whereabouts.  During  a  large  part 
of  the  war  a  considerable  force  was  maintained  at  or  near  the 
Junction.  Colonel  C.  K.  Thomas,  about  whose  home  the  battle 
of  the  9th  was  fought,  has  said  that  he  left  Baltimore  in  '61 
to  be  out  of  the  whirl  of  war,  but  that  for  most  of  the  time 
between  '62  and  '65  there  were  encamped  within  sight  of  his 
house  from  2,000  to  15,000  troops.  At  this  particular  time  there 
were  in  the  immediate  vicinity  the  first  separate  brigade  of  the 
8th  Corps,  under  the  command  of  Brigadier  General  Erastus 
B.  Tyler,  and  a  small  cavalry  detachment  under  Lieutenant 
Colonel  David  R.  Clendenin  of  the  8th  Illinois  Cavalry.  To 
these  was  joined  in  the  fight  the  3d  Division  of  the  6th  Corps, 
all  except  a  part  of  the  2d  Brigade,  including  the  6th  Mary 
land,  the  67th  Pennsylvania,  and  a  portion  of  the  122d  Ohio. 
Colonel  Horn  of  the  6th  Maryland  states  in  his  report  that  it 
was  the  breaking  down  of  an  engine  on  the  transport  that 
caused  the  delay  of  this  detachment.  The  Union  forces  were 
under  the  command  of  General  Lew  Wallace.* 


*Lewis  Wallace,  better  known  by  the  abbreviated  "Lew,"  was  born 
in  Franklin  Co.,  Ind.,  April  10th,  1827,  the  son  of  David  Wallace,  a 
graduate  of  West  Point,  and  a  very  prominent  office-holder  in  that 
state.  The  younger  Wallace,  after  receiving  a  common  school  educa 
tion,  was  studying  law  when  the  Mexican  War  began,  and,  suspending 
his  studies,  he  went  in  as  a  first  lieutenant.  On  his  return,  he  resumed 
his  law  study  and  was  an  attorney  in  Crawfordsville  when  the  Rebel 
lion  began.  He  became  adjutant  general  of  the  state,  then  went  to 
the  front  as  colonel  of  the  llth  Indiana  Infantry,  was  promoted  brig 
adier  general,  Sept.,  1869;  he  led  a  division  at  the  capture  of  Fort 
Donelson,  and  his  bravery  there  secured  a  commission  as  major 
general  of  volunteers  early  in  1862.  He  was  at  Shiloh,  and  the  poet, 
Wilson,  in  his  "Old  Sergeant"  says, 

"There  was  where  Lew  Wallace  showed  them  he  was  of  the  canny  kin." 


124  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

During  a  considerable  portion  of  the  8th,  Colonel  Harvey 
and  his  men  of  the  10th  Vermont,  with  those  of  the  14th  New 
Jersey,  were  doing  their  best  to  make  a  big  showing  west  of 
Frederick,  for  the  purpose  of  impressing  the  presumably  on- 
looking  rebs  with  the  magnitude  of  the  Union  forces.  To  some 
extent  the  tricks  of  Bannockburn  were  resorted  to,  and  the  re 
sults  were  satisfactory,  at  least  to  the  extent  of  keeping  the 
Confederates  back  till  the  remainder  of  the  division  arrived. 

The  hour  was  well  along  in  the  afternoon  when  our  train 
reached  Frederick  and  marched  through  the  streets  of  Dame 
Barbara's  city.  Many  an  eye  was  cast  right  and  left,  wondering 
whether  a  gleam  of  her  flag  might  not  be  seen,  but  we  had  no 
key  to  the  situation  nor  directory  of  the  city,  though  we  did 
remark  the  plentiful  display  of  colors. 

"Forty  flags  with  their  silver  stars, 
Forty  flags  with  their  crimson  bars, 
Flapped  in  the  morning  wind:  the  sun 
Of  noon  looked  down  and  saw  not  one." 

Merely  advancing  the  time  to  afternoon  and  eve,  the  fore 
going  description  applies  to  our  observations,  though  the  even 
ing  part  was  told  by  our  men  captured  on  the  skirmish  line, 
but  there  was  no  woman  left  in  the  city  to  take  up  the  flag  "the 
men  hauled  down."  The  body  of  Barbara  Frietchie,  only  four 
years  short  of  a  century  old,  for  nearly  two  years  had  been 
lying  in  the  Lutheran  cemetery  of  Frederick.  Our  three  com 
panies,  A,  B  and  C,  march  to  the  westward  on  the  Hagerstown 
pike,  and  filing  to  the  left  form  in  line  in  a  field  of  corn  whose 
tassels  reach  to  our  chins.  Captain  Hyde  of  A  Company  com 
mands  the  detachment.  A  line  of  pickets  is  thrown  out,  which 
later  largely  falls  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  The  scene  as  we 


He  commanded  in  Cincinnati  on  the  expected  rebel  attack  in  1863, 
and  the  next  year  brings  him  to  Monocacy  and  its  sacrifice.  Later  he 
was  of  the  board  that  tried  the  Conspirators,  and  also  he  presided  at 
the  trial  of  Wirtz,  the  Andersonville  fiend.  Returning  to  civil  life,  he 
has  been  governor  of  Utah  and  U.  S.  minister  to  Turkey.  Possibly 
it  was  this  eastern  residence  that  suggested  his  great  story,  Ben  Hur, 
whose  wonderful  popularity  has  given  him  a  foremost  place  among 
writers  of  fiction.  That  his  military  spirit  is  not  dead  we  may  gather 
from  the  fact  that  he  was  an  applicant  for  service  at  the  beginning  of 
the  Spanish  War.  In  a  letter  to  the  writer,  he  mentions  his  recollec 
tions  of  Monocacy  and  his  appreciation  of  the  services  of  the  Ninth 
in  that  battle.  His  home  is  still  in  Crawfordsville. 


TO  AND  THROUGH  MONOCACY.  125 

thus  face  the  setting  sun  is  indelibly  impressed  on  many  minds. 
To  the  westward  are  the  Catoctin  mountains,  only  a  few  miles 
beyond  which,  at  Antietam,  was  fought  the  bloodiest  single  day's 
battle  of  the  entire  war,  nearly  two  years  before.  Up  those  very 
steeps  where  now  is  seen  the  dust  from  rebel  tread,  in  1755  rode 
Braddock  to  defeat  and  death.  Our  surroundings  are  fragrant 
with  history,  but  it  is  not  that  which  chiefly  concerns  us  now, 
The  men  speedily  learn  that  marauders  have  not  recently  dis 
turbed  this  locality,  so  they  dip  freely  into  the  toothsome  con 
tents  of  well-stored  spring  houses,  in  some  cases  leaving  com 
rades  to  carry  their  guns  should  the  line  fall  back. 

Darkness  was  upon  us  when  we  heard  the  order  to  retire,  and 
then  began  a  march  not  so  long  as  many  we  had  taken,  but  very 
trying  on  account  of  the  hard  road  upon  which  we  were  called 
to  march.  The  soft  and  yielding  highways  of  Virginia  had 
afforded  no  preparation  for  the  macadamized  pike  upon  which 
we  traveled,  back  through  Frederick  and  towards  Baltimore 
till  we  had  passed  the  Monocacy  river,  upon  a  great  stone 
bridge,  which  arched  the  stream  most  beautifully.  A  toll-gate 
was  evident  as  we  passed  through  the  parapets,  and  that  poor 
toll-taker  must  have  grown  weary  of  the  stale  remark,  "We'll 
pay  you  when  we  come  back."* 

Finally  we  file  to  our  right,  and  in  the  darkness  plod  along 
with  sadly  blistered  feet  and  heavy  eyelids.  Apparently  our 
guide  is  not  proficient  in  his  knowledge  of  the  way,  for  there 
are  many  halts,  not  long  enough  for  rest,  but  just  sufficiently 
frequent  to  be  vexatious  when  we  all  wanted  to  camp.  There 
was  a  decided  variation  when  a  gun  of  the  Baltimore  Battery 
accompanying  us  was  tipped  over  and  men  of  the  Ninth  had 
to  right  it.  It  was  long  past  midnight  when  in  a  drizzling  rain 
we  got  the  welcome  order  to  halt  and  in  place  rest.  This  we 
did  effectually  until  the  east  began  to  redden,  when  we  fell 
in  and  marched  a  short  distance,  coming  out  on  elevated  land 
near  the  stopping-place  of  the  train  the  day  before. 


*There  are  few  if  any  finer  specimens  of  bridge -making  in  America; 
built  in  1808,  it  is  still  as  firm  and  beautiful  as  when  erected.  Here  in 
December,  1824,  the  citizens  of  Frederick  met  Lafayette,  on  his  mem 
orable  tour,  and  escorted  him  to  their  city.  Some  may  note  the  great 
stone  decanter  or  cruise  on  the  eastern  end,  placed  there  probably  to 
indicate  the  plenty  known  to  abound  in  Frederick  county.  The  pass 
ing  events  are  to  add  to  its  history. 


126  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

The  other  companies  of  our  battalions  are  here;  with  a  beau 
tiful  view  of  the  land  on  which  the  day's  fighting  is  to  be  done, 
we  take  an  early  breakfast,  in  many  cases  enriched  by  the  pre 
ceding  night's  visits  to  Maryland  dairies.  How  blissfully  igno 
rant  we  are  of  the  coming  conflict!  Farm-laborers  are  working 
energetically  to  secure  the  crop  of  wheat  which  covers  the 
large  field  west  of  the  Washington  pike  and  south  of  the  river. 
Apparently  the  owner  suspects  trouble  in  this  vicinity.  We 
can  see  that  had  we  followed  the  road  from  Frederick  down, 
we  might  have  reached  our  present  station  easily  and  quickly, 
but  the  Confederates  had  made  of  that  road  "no  thoroughfare." 
In  other  words  they  held  the  road,  having  worked  in  at  our 
left  while  we  were  facing  westward,  and  the  wonder  was  that 
all  of  us  were  not  taken;  there  was  reason  enough  for  the 
careful  way  in  which  our  night's  march  was  made.  Two  ex 
tremely  attractive  young  women  are  very  much  in  evidence  as 
they  flit  from  place  to  place,  obviously  in  deep  distress  over 
something.  The  last  that  we  saw  of  them  was  their  rapid  cross 
ing  of  the  railroad  bridge  to  the  westward. 

There  is  a  big  stone  mill,  Gambrill's,  at  our  left,  and  a  well- 
shaded  way  leads  up  to  the  mansion  of  Colonel  C.  K.  Thomas. 
It  is  in  the  vicinity  of  9  o'clock  when  we  find  ourselves  in  line 
on  the  Georgetown  pike,  with  the  covered  bridge  at  our  right. 
Between  us  and  the  wheat-field  is  a  well-made  mortised  rail- 
fence.  We  are  directed  to  lift  it  up  and  lay  it  down,  an  order 
we  readily  obeyed.  Lieutenant  Fish  with  his  boys  of  Company 
B  are  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  guarding  the  bridge;  be 
yond  them  on  the  skirmish  line,  along  with  many  of  the  10th 
Vermont  and  some  others,  is  Captain  A.  S.  Wood  and  his  Com 
pany  M.  Our  regiment  is  well  to  the  right  of  the  line,  and  in 
the  earlier  part  of  the  day  the  fighting  is  largely  at  the  left 
of  the  1st  Brigade,  in  and  about  the  premises  of  Colonel 
Thomas.  A  wheat-field  south  of  his  home  is  a  prominent  theatre, 
and  it  is  an  interesting  sight  to  see  shocks  of  wheat  used  as  a 
defense  by  our  soldiers.  Also  the  hedges  and  trees  in  the 
Thomas  yard  are  thoroughly  utilized.  Again  and  again  the 
rebel  advances  are  repelled,  but  they  eventually  outreach  and 
completely  flank  our  position. 

In  the  meantime  rations  are  brought  to  us  as  we  lie  under 
the  brow  of  the  hill,  as  usual  trying  to  burrow  by  means  of 
haversack  utensils.  The  fact  that  we  are  under  fire  drove  to 


TO  AND  THROUGH  MONOCACY. 


127 


safe  places  in  the  rear  the  contingent  that  during  active  service 
was  chiefly  in  evidence  when  food  was  distributed,  so  that  once 
in  regimental  life  the  supply  of  luxuries  like  sugar  and  coffee 
exceeded  the  demand,  but  later  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  rebs 
swept  down  over  our  position,  they  licked  our  platters  clean  in 
no  time,  and,  it  would  seem,  never  lost  their  alignment  for  a 
moment.  They  knew  a  good  thing  when  they  saw  it.  It  is 


MONOCACY  BATTLEFIELD. 


1.  Turnpike  Bridge. 

2.  Wallace's  Headquarters. 

3.  Gambrill's  Mill. 

4.  Blockhouse. 

5.  Battery. 


6.  Col.  Thomas'  Home. 

7.  Olivet  Cemetery. 

8.  Line  of  Battle,  the  8th. 

9.  Road  to  Harper's  Ferry. 
10.  Hospital. 


vivid  in  many  minds  to  this  day,  the  view  of  those  stragglers 
who,  like  Job's  war-horse,  sniffed  the  battle  from  afar,  and 
went  without  their  rations.  Way  beyond  our  skirmish  line, 


128  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

quite  near  the  city  of  Frederick,  is  Mount  Olivet  cemetery,  and 
in  it  lies  the  body  of  Francis  Scott  Key,  who  wrote  "The  Star 
Spangled  Banner/'  and  we  wonder  whether  the  proximity  of 
stars  and  bars  does  not  make  his  remains  uneasy. 

Major  Burgess  has  moved  along  with  his  battalion  towards 
the  left;  Alexander's  Battery  has  gone  in  before  we  are  ordered 
to  advance.  The  foe  has  found  a  ford  in  the  Monocacy  down 
the  stream,  and  is  now  making  his  way  up  the  river's  side.  A 
large  field  of  standing  corn  confronts  us  just  to  the  westward 
of  the  wheat-field  in  which  we  had  been  lying,  and  we  under 
stand  that  the  enemy  is  approaching  under  cover  of  the  tas- 
seled  stalks.  Before  this,  however,  the  turnpike  bridge  has 
been  fired  by  Lieutenant  Fish's  men,  and  the  story  is  best  told 
by  one  of  the  company  as  follows: 

"Colonel  William  H.  Seward,  Jr.,  received  orders  from  Gen 
eral  Wallace  about  9  A.  M.  to  detach  two  companies  from  his 
regiment  for  perilous  duty.  Colonel  Seward  immediately  de 
tached  Company  B  by  the  following  order  (the  line  was  resting 
in  place):  'Lieutenant  Fish,-  order  your  company  in  line  and 
move  it  down  to  that  bridge,  and  hold  it  at  all  hazard.' 
The  order  was  promptly  executed.  The  company  arranged 
to  stubbornly  defend  the  passage  of  the  bridge.  The  rebels 
tried  to  dislodge  the  company  by  directing  shells  on  the  bridge, 
which  raked  the  structure  with  terrific  force,  but  failed  in  their 
design.  'Hold  it  at  all  hazard,'  was  the  order.  As  the  battle 
raged  furiously,  the  lines  changed  front,  and  from  the  situation 
of  the  respective  armies  it  became  evident  that  the  bridge  must 
be  burned  to  prevent  General  Breckinridge,  who  was  waiting 
near  Frederick  City  with  two  divisions,  from  crossing  the 
bridge  and  intersecting  our  rear.  Members  of  the  company 
procured  sheaves  of  wheat  from  a  near-by  field,  and  placed 
them  under  the  southeast  corner  of  the  roof  of  the  bridge. 

About  12.30  P.  M.  Lieutenant  Fish  received  an  order  from 
Colonel  Seward  to  burn  the  bridge,  which  was  promptly  ex 
ecuted.  Privates  Alven  N.  Sova,  Samuel  R.  Mack,  and  Sergeant 
AJbert  L.  Smith  participated  in  setting  the  fire,  which  wrapped 
the  roof  in  flames  like  magic.  It  was  impossible  to  rejoin  the 
regiment  at  this  time.  The  only  escape  was  to  the  rear,  but 
Lieutenant  Fish  declined  to  move  his  company  without  orders. 
About  2  P.  M.  a  field-officer  rode  up  and  ordered  Lieutenant 
Fish  to  move  his  company  to  the  rear  immediately,  which  he 


FREDERICK   CITY. 


GRAVE  OF  BARBARA  FRIETCHIE  (Right). 
CONFEDERATE  MONUMENT. 


GRAVES  OF  FRANCIS  SCOTT  KEY  AND  WIFE. 
OLD  STOREHOUSE,  MONOCACY  JUNCTION. 


TO  AND  THROUGH  MONOCACY.  129 

did  while  being  urged  forward  by  rebel  bullets.  On  intersect 
ing  the  railroad  it  was  found  that  Lieutenant  E.  E.  Burton 
and  two  privates  were  missing  or  taken  prisoners.  On  cross 
ing  the  railroad  the  situation  seemed  perilous,  and  to  prevent 
the  further  reduction  of  his  ranks  Lieutenant  Fish  gave  this 
unique  order:  'Sergeant  Stanford,  put  the  bayonet  through  the 
first  damned  man  that  attempts  to  leave  the  ranks.'  On  reach 
ing  the  woods  and  filing  to  the  right  soon  came  out  into  an 
open  field,  and  were  intersected  by  General  Wallace  on  his 
return  from  the  stone  bridge,  where  he  had  been  to  personally 
give  orders  to  Colonel  Brown.  On  nearing  the  company  the 
general  asked,  'What  troops  are  these?'  Lieutenant  Fish  re 
plied,  'It  is  Company  B  of  the  9th  New  York  Heavy  Artillery.' 
General  Wallace  said,  'Lieutenant  Fish,  it  is  no  fault  of  your 
company  nor  the  9th  New  York  Heavy  Artillery  regiment  that 
this  battle  has  been  lost.'  Lieutenant  Fish  replied,  'General, 
I  trust  not.'  On  starting  to  leave  the  company,  General  Wal 
lace  remarked,  'Lieutenant  Fish,  I  certainly  will  remember  you 
in  my  report/  and  rode  away  rapidly." 

The  other  company  to  which  special  duty  was  assigned  was 
M,  whose  captain,  Anson  S.  Wood,  thus  describes  its  perform 
ance  of  duty : 

"I  was  directed  to  take  files  enough  from  Company  E  (six 
men,  Lieutenant  Freeoff)  to  make  with  my  company  my  100 
men  for  picket  duty,  and  an  orderly  from  General  Wallace's 
staff  was  directed  to  show  me  where  to  go.  I  had  no  orders, 
and  no  intimation  was  given  me  that  we  were  in  the  presence 
of  the  enemy. 

"I  crossed  the  bridge,  and  marched  up  the  pike  toward  Fred 
erick,  anticipating  a  pleasant  day  on  picket  when  suddenly  a 
rebel  skirmish-line  opened  full  upon  us.  I  immediately  ordered 
my  men  to  lie  down,  and  went  forward  a  short  distance  to 
ascertain  whether  there  were  any  of  our  troops  near  by.  1 
soon  discovered  a  Union  captain,  and  learned  from  him  that 
he  had  some  sort  of  a  skirmish-line  on  the  left  of  the  pike  look 
ing  toward  Frederick,  and  that  he  outranked  me.  I  told  him 
that  I  reported  for  orders  and  awaited  his  instructions.  He 
said  he  thought  I  had  better  move  my  men  up  and  reinforce 
his  line.  I  did  so,  and  within  five  minutes  the  captain  and  the 
few  men  he  had  there  disappeared  from  my  sight  and  hearing 
forever.  The  rebel  skirmish-line  was  a  few  hundred  yards  in 


130  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

our  front,  and  we  exchanged  shots  from  time  to  time,  but  the 
firing  was  very  light.  I  had  been  upon  the  skirmish-line  but 
a  short  time  when  I  received  a  visit  from  General  Ricketts, 
accompanied  by  two  or  three  members  of  his  staff.  He  in 
quired  of  me  who  was  in  command  of  the  line,  and  I  stated  to 
him  the  disappearance  of  the  captain  to  whom  I  had  reported 
for  orders.  He  directed  a  soldier  standing  near  to  knock  down 
the  fence  so  he  could  ride  on  the  pike,  directed  me  to  stop  the 
firing,  or  advance  the  line,  said  he  would  send  a  field-officer 
to  take  charge  of  the  line,  whereupon  Captain  Damon  of  the 
general's  staff  pointed  to  a  mounted  officer  a  long  distance  in 

the  rear,  and  said:  'That  is  Colonel  -    ,  who  is  field-officer 

of  the  day.'  General  Ricketts  said,  'I  will  send  him  to  you.' 
Just  at  that  moment  the  rebel  skirmishers  gave  the  general  a 
salute,  and  he  turned  and  rode  away.  I  immediately  deployed 
the  larger  number  of  my  men  to  the  east  side  of  the  pike.  I 
never  saw  the  officer  after  that,  never  received  any  orders  from 
that  time  on  from  any  source,  but  fought  my  part  of  the 
battle  untrammeled  with  orders  from  any  source.  Not  long 
after  the  general  left,  Lieutenant  Parrish  discovered 
that  an  attempt  was  being  made  to  flank  us  on  the 
extreme  right,  and  I  directed  him  to  change  our  line 
so  as  to  prevent  it.  Some  time  prior  to  the  commence 
ment  of  the  battle  proper,  the  rebel  skirmish-line  was  rein 
forced  by  troops  moving  up  from  the  direction  of  Frederick. 
An  advance  was  made  on  our  line,  and  I  ordered  the  men  to 
fall  back  to  the  line  of  the  railroad.  I  think  it  was  about  this 
time  that  Surgeon  Chamberlain  was  captured  at  a  farm-house 
between  the  lines,  but  some  distance  to  the  left  of  my  line. 
About  this  time  Captain  Parker  of  the  106th  New  York,  with 
one  or  two  companies,  moved  forward  on  my  left.  My  skir 
mish-line  in  falling  back  to  the  railroad  displayed  about  as  good 
soldierly  qualities  as  the  most  strict  disciplinarian  could  desire. 
They  maintained  an  excellent  line,  loading  and  firing  rapidly, 
keeping  the  rebel  advance  in  check  until  they  reached  the  cover 
of  the  railroad  cut.  I  recall  particularly  one  soldier,  a  tall, 
stern  man,  formerly  a  school-teacher  in  one  of  the  western 
counties  of  the  state  (I  think  his  name  was  Mellon),  who 
stopped  and  fired  each  time  with  great  deliberation  and  ex 
cellent  effect.  After  we  reached  the  line  of  the  railroad,  a  few 
of  the  Maryland  100-day  men  made  their  appearance  and  helped 


TO  AND  THROUGH  MONOCACY.  131 

to  hold  our  line.  Just  before  the  bridge  was  fired,  a  message 
came  to  me  that  it  was  to  be  burned,  that  I  was  to  hold  my  line 
as  long  as  possible,  that  if  it  became  necessary  to  get  out,  I 
could  come  on  the  railroad  bridge  or  ford  the  river,  and  the 
place  where  fordable  was  pointed  out  to  me.  I  am  unable  to 
state  from  where  the  message  came,  but  I  think  it  must  have 
come  from  General  Wallace  through  one  of  his  staff. 

"From  my  position  T  had  an  excellent  opportunity  to  witness 
the  main  battle.  If  I  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  have  a  field- 
glass,  I  could  have  taken  it  in  in.  all  its  details.  I  held  my 
position;  on  the  railroad  till  after  our  troops  were  driven  from 
the  field,  then  recrossed  the  river,  Lieutenant  Parrish  and  a 
part  of  the  men  taking  to  the  water.  I  crossed  with  the  bal 
ance  of  the  men  under  a  severe  fire,  but  fortunately  without 
loss.  One  man  was  killed  fording  the  river  with  Lieutenant 
Parrish.  I  do  not  recollect  how  many  were  killed  and  wounded 
out  of  the  hundred  men  I  took  up  on  the  skirmish-line  that 
morning,  but  I  think  our  loss  was  not  so  heavy  as  in  the  other 
companies  of  the  regiment.  I  was  slightly  wounded  myself. 

"I  shall  always  think  that  no  troops  ever  behaved  better  on 
the  field  of  battle  than  the  handful  of  men  who  delayed  for 
one  day  Jubal  Early  and  his  Confederate  forces  on  their  way 
to  capture  Washington.  After  crossing  the  river  my  company 
reformed  in  one  of  the  rifle-pits,  from  which  we  were  ordered 
by  General  Ricketts  himself  on  his  retreat  from  the  battle 
field.  I  think  my  company  was  the  only  organization  that 
kept  together.  I  know  that  from  time  to  time  other  members 
of  the  old  regiments  joined  us,  and  I  think  ours  was  the  first 
regiment  to  recover  and  get  into  shape  after  the  battle. 

"Among  other  things  I  vividly  remembered  was  seeing  Colonel 
Taft's  black  horse  galloping  riderless  to  the  rear,  and  later  on 
Adjutant  Pringle  on  his  cream-colored  steed  following  rapidly 
in  the  same  direction.  That  day  and  the  night  following  tried 
my  physical  endurance  more  severely  than  any  other  like  period 
of  my  army  service.  I  never  recall  it  without  wondering  how 
I  ever  could  have  endured  it.  It  was  the  best  and  the  hardest 
day's  work  of  my  soldier's  life.  It  was  the  last  time  I  marched 
on  foot;  from  that  time  on  I  was  mounted." 

It  was  well  along  in  the  afternoon  when  we,,  who  had  been 
lying  so  long  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  were  ordered  in.  We 
were  very  near  the  river,  only  one  regiment,  the  110th  Ohio,  at 


132  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

our  right,  intervening.  Colonel  Reward  sat  his  horse  as  erect  as  a 
centaur;  Lieutenant  Colonel  Taft  was  also  in  his  place  and 
mounted  with  Adjutant  Pringle.  Our  alignment  is  excellent, 
and  the  colors  stream  along  as  we  advance  over  the  space  sepa 
rating  us  from  a  standing  field  of  corn.  Here  is  another 
strong  fence  whose  rails  afford  us  excellent  rests  for  our  guns 
as  we  rapidly  fire  into  the  field  through  which  the  enemy  is 
making  his  way  and  firing  as  he  comes.  We  are  finding  no 
fault  with  our  part  of  the  game,  and  our  Harper's  Ferry 
muskets  are  doing  such  execution  that  we  think  ourselves 
able  to  hold  the  place  indefinitely.  But  there  is  trouble 
at  the  extreme  left,  where  we  are  flanked.  Soon  the  order  comes 
to  fall  back,  which  we  obey  slowly,  keeping  up  a  desultory 
fusilade  at  the  rebels,  who -climb  our  fence  in  a  surprisingly 
brief  time  after  our  leaving  it.  A  halt  is  made  near  the  point 
where  we  had  thrown  down  the  fence.  Lieutenant  Harmon  of 
Company  H  unconsciously  used  the  refrain  of  Root's  Battle 
Hymn  as  he  exclaimed,  "Rally  round  your  flag,  boys,"  for  the 
colors  were  there.  Further  along,  towards  the  left,  and  under 
the  hill.  Colonel  Seward,  who  had  been  injured  by  his  wounded 
horse  falling  upon  him,  and  who  was  supported  by  two  men, 
was  directing  an  officer  and  guard  to  advance  to  a  tree  some 
rods  nearer  to  the  enemy  to  secure  Lieutenant  Colonel  Taft, 
who  was  lying  there  wounded.  This  order  Lieutenant  Colvin 
of  Company  H  essayed  to  obey,  but  before  the  officer  could  be 
reached,  the  rebel  line  had  swept  by,  and  the  effort  was  futile. 

Our  lieutenant  colonel  thus  wrote  later  of  his  injury:  "I  was 
withdrawing  from  the  field  when  a  numbness  seized  my  left 
leg  and  I  dropped  to  the  ground."  The  rebels  took  his  sabre, 
revolver,  watch,  pencil  and  pen,  though  he  had  surrendered 
to  a  general  officer.  He  was  afterwards  carried  to  Frederick, 
but  it  was  not  till  September  10th  that  Lyons  accorded  him 
a  handsome  welcome  home,  the  Rev.  L.  W.  Brown  speaking  for 
the  people,  and  Colonel  A.  D.  Adams  for  the  wounded  officer. 

By  this  time  our  own  lines  were  thrown  into  great  confusion. 
The  flank  movement  on  the  left  had  driven  down  towards 
Gambrill's  mill  portions  of  the  1st  Brigade,  and  our  own  2d 
was  mingled  with  them.  Colonel  M.  R.  McClennan  of  the  138th 
Pennsylvania  was  in  temporary  command  of  the  2d  Brigade, 
and  possibly  he  was  the  officer  who  was  shouting,  "Elevate 
your  pieces,  men;  elevate  your  pieces;"  this  in  regard  to  the 


TO  AND  THROUGH  MONOCACY.  133 

advancing  Confederates  who,  in  great  numbers,  are  bearing 
down  upon  us.  From  some  source  comes  the  order  to  shift  for 
ourselves,  and  the  Monocacy  field  is  left  behind  us.  One  private 
recalls  hearing  the  color  sergeant  of  the  Ninth  say,  "I  don't 
see  any  use  in  staying  here  any  longer,"  and  said  private 
thought  his  record  safe  in  that  he  left  the  field  behind  the 
colors.  Colonel  Seward  got  away,  riding  on  a  bridleless  mule, 
which  he  directed  by  means  of  a  silk  handkerchief  inserted  in 
his  mouth.  The  day  has  ended  disastrously,  so  far  as  we  are 
concerned,  but  for  nine  hours  a  handful  of  men  has  held  Early's 
thousands,  thus  permitting  the  remainder  of  our  corps  to  reach 
Washington  and  so  prevent  the  consummation  of  the  rebels' 
audacious  plan  to  capture  the  Capital. 

One  who  was  in  the  battle  thus  writes:  "I  pass  a  comrade 
sitting  by  the  roadside.  Blood  is  trickling  from  a  wound  just 
below  his  heart.  I  had  carried  his  gun  the  night  before,  and 
'now  I  say  'Good  by'  to  him;  there  is  no  fear,  no  regret  in  his 
tone  as  he  replies.  A  brave  country  boy  he  had  lived,  and 
death  has  no  terrors  for  him.  He  could  not  have  smiled  more 
sweetly  had  he  been  lying  down  to  pleasant  dreams.  Hours 
afterwards,  I  carry  a  canteen  full  of  water  to  another  comrade 
lying  on  a  pile  of  grain  in  the  store-house  by  the  railroad,  and 
he,  too,,  had  no  complaints,  no  repinings.  He  said  only,  'I  have 
my  death  wound,'  and  with  the  dew  of  youth  yet  fresh  upon 
him,  with  all  the  prospects  of  long  life  ended,  he  closed  his 
eyes  in  dreamless  sleep.  And  so  they  died  in  the  east  and  in 
the  west,  the  young  and  the  old;  on  the  field  amidst  the  roar 
of  musketry  and  cannonading;  in  the  hospitals,  of  wounds  and 
fever;  on  the  lonely  picket  line;  as  scouts  and  videttes;  and 
who  records  any  regrets?  They  deemed  the  cause  worthy  the 
sacrifice.  Eyes  grow  dim  in  many  a  Northern  home 

'For  a  singer  dumb  and  gory,' 

but  he  recked  not;  he  was  past  all  pain  and  sorrow.  For  him 
there  was  burial  near  the  place  where  he  fell,  and  for  the  future 
his  name  upon  the  nation's  deathless  roll." 

At  this  moment,  however,  flushed  with  victory  the  enemy, 
horse  and  foot,  with  seemingly  an  unending  array  of  artillery, 
presses  hard  upon  our  retreating  lines.  The  falling  back  is  not 
undisputed,  and  the  stubbornness  of  those  covering  the  rear 
rendered  the  escape  of  most  of  the  men  possible.  There  was  a 


134  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

short  train  at  the  station,  upon  which  many  took  refuge,  and 
with  it  steamed  away  to  safety,  but  to  those  who  left  the  field 
last  there  was  not  even  Hobson's  choice.  There  was  nothing 
for  them  but  quick  eyes  and  alert  feet.  They  had  a  general  no 
tion  that  salvation  lay  in  the  direction  of  Baltimore,  and  thither 
they  directed  their  footsteps,  in  many  cases  interrupted  by  the 
pursuing  cavalry  that  seemed  to  be  almost  ubiquitous.  If  the 
men  knew  enough  to  keep  off  the  traveled  ways,  in  the  woods 
and  fields,  they  generally  managed  to  escape  the  foe,  but  he 
followed  hard1  and  fast,  and  captures  were  made  when  the  sol 
dier  thought  himself  entirely  out  of  the  range  of  pursuers. 

The  records  state  that  fifty-one  men  from  the  eight  com 
panies  were  killed  or  mortally  wounded  this  day,  among  them 
Lieutenant  James  H.  Ellis  of  Company  E.  He  had  enlisted  in 
Company  D  as  a  sergeant,  and  had  been  promoted  to  quarter 
master  sergeant  of  the  regiment.  Thence  he  went  as  2d  lieu 
tenant  to  Company  E.  He  was  born  in  Lyons  April  1st,  1843; 
was  reared  there;  served  from  1859  to  enlistment,  in  R.  H. 
Mur-dock's  store  as  clerk;  was  a  member  of  Grace  Church  and 
Sunday-school;  his  death  occasioned  widespread  grief  in  his 
native  village. 

The  official  dispatches  and  reports  concerning  this  day's  work 
are  worthy  of  insertion  complete,  but  only  an  abstract  can  be 
given.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  our  commanding  officers  were 
not  more  explicit.  Dispatches  on  record  in  Washington  show 
that  had  they  (the  dispatches)  been  received  earlier,  our  regi 
ment  had  had  no  part  in  the  Monocacy  fight.  Fortunately  for 
our  military  reputation,  we  were  in  the  battle  before  they  were 
sent.  The  truth  of  the  whole  matter  was  that  all  Washington 
was  badly  scared,  and  with  justice;  only  the  timely  arrival  of 
the  1st  and  2d  Divisions  of  the  6th  Corps  saved  the  city  from 
pillage  and  conflagration,  and  it  was  our  heading  off  Early  at 
Monocacy  that  permitted  such  result.  Early  himself  in  1888 
told  the  writer  that  the  sight  of  the  Greek  cross  on  the  works 
north  of  Washington  was  what  induced  his  retreat.  "I>~ 
that  6th  Corps,"  said  a  Confederate  officer  in  front  of  the  Cap 
ital,  "we  find  it  everywhere." 

For  those  who  were  taken  prisoners  a  special  chapter  will 
be  given.  Now  we  must  follow  the  fortunes  of  the  two  battal 
ions,  to  whose  members  the  dav  at  Monocacy  was  memorable. 


RETREAT  AND   PURSUIT.  135 

CHAPTER     XV. 

RETREAT  AND  PURSUIT. 

The  turnpike  from  Frederick  to  Baltimore  is  as  straight  and 
as  hard  as  the  hand  of  man  can  make  it.  Those  who  had  a  good 
start  found  the  road  a  convenient  one  to  follow  towards  Balti 
more.  Those  who  could,  marched  all  night,  and  at  some  hour 
of  the  10th  reached  Ellicott  City,  passing  on  their  way  St. 
Charles  College,  named  for  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton,  the 
last  survivor  of  the  signers  of  the  Declaration,  whose  gener 
osity  had  endowed  this  institution,  one  of  the  famous  Roman 
Catholic  enterprises  of  the  state;  but  our  boys  are  more  inter 
ested  in  food  and  raiment  than  in  mind  and  religion,  and  did 
not  improve  the  opportunity  to  "go  through  college,"  though 
they  did  remark  its  appearance  as  they  marched  by. 

The  men  were  badly  scattered;  the  largest  number  that  any 
one  company  could  muster  was  thirty-one,  officers  and  men. 
Here  something  like  organization  was  had;  camp  was  pitched 
and  pickets  thrown  out. 

The  llth  of  July  saw  the  regiment  en  route  for  Baltimore  by 
way  of  the  Baltimore  &  Ohio  railroad,  a  more  agreeable  form 
of  locomotion  than  that  recently  practiced.  Twelve  men  of 
Company  M  were  left  at  the  Relay  House  to  serve  the  big  guns 
there  in  case  of  need,  and  Maryland's  chief  city  is  reached 
at  about  10  A.  M.  by  some  of  the  regiment,  though  others  did 
not  leave  Ellicott  City  till  nearly  night.  The  12th  was  spent  in 
camp,  and  the  rest  thus  secured  was  decidedly  grateful  to  the 
weary  men,  though  it  is  recorded  that  some  of  the  soldiers 
were  not  too  tired  to  break  open  certain  bales  of  soldiers'  cloth 
ing  and  so  help  themselves.  The  law  that  heaven  helps  those 
who  help  themselves  seems  to  have  been  firmly  planted  in 
the  minds  of  all  soldiers,  both  North  and  South.  As  many  had 
not  yet  reported,  rations  went  begging,  and  on  moving  camp 
the  "boys"  gave  to  a  needy  woman  two-thirds  of  a  barrel  of 
pork,  a  larger  supply  than  she  had  ever  possessed  at  any  one 
time  before. 

On  the  13th  camp  was  changed  to  Washington  park,  near  the 
edge  of  the  city,  having  to  travel  about  one  mile  to  reach  it. 
Hard  by  is  the  estate  of  Mr.  Kirby,  a  lumber  merchant,  also 


136  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

a  small  fort  without  guards,  though  some  other  troops  are 
camped  near. 

By  the  14th  the  Ninth  was  ready  for  another  advance,  and 
after  marching  to  Druid  hill,  the  men  moved  to  Washington 
station,  and  thence  by  rail  rode  to  the  Capital.  In  leaving 
Baltimore,  one  company  so  won  the  good  opinion  of  a  Mr. 
Quirk  that  he  gave  to  each  man  a  head  of  cabbage,  but  as  if 
to  compensate  for  this  good  fortune,  they  had  to  march  full  five 
miles,  one  mile  directly  away  from  the  station.  The  crowning 
motive  in  most  of  the  marching  and  countermarching  of  the 
war  the  unprofessional  mind  has  never  been  able  to  compre 
hend.  The  sight  of  a  company  of  men,  each  bearing  a  cabbage, 
must  have  been  an  inspiring  one,  and  though  there  is  no  record 
of  the  epithet  "Cabbage-head"  being  hurled  at  these  battle- 
proved  soldiers,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  the  provocation 
was  great.  Sundown  sees  the  boys  in  Washington,  and  en 
camped  at  or  near  Soldiers'  Kest. 

The  march  on  the  15th  began  before  breakfast,  and  termi 
nated  at  Tennallytown,  where  orders  were  received  to  report  to 
Major  Snyder  at  Fort  Reno,  but  somehow  this  conflicted  with 
General  Ricketts'  notions,  and  the  two  battalions  moved  on, 
leaving  the  other  in  the  fort  which  it  had  helped  defend  dur 
ing  Early's  raid.  While  here  President  Lincoln  drove  out  to 
our  camp  to  congratulate  the  troops  on  their  stubborn  resist 
ance  at  Monocacy.  His  carriage  stopped  in  the  midst  of  our 
regiment  and  the  boys  gathered  about  him  in  great  crowds. 
A  tall  stripling  of  a  lad  of  Company  D  crowded  his  way  to  the 
carriage,  and,  handing  the  president  the  eagle-plate  from  his 
cartridge-box  straps,  with  a  Confederate  bullet  sticking  fast 
in  its  centre,  said,  "See,  Mr.  Lincoln,  this  saved  my  life  at 
Monocacy;  the  force  of  the  bullet  knocked  me  down."  The 
president  took  the  relic  in  his  hand,  looked  it  over  carefully, 
and  after  commenting  on  the  fortunate  escape  of  the  soldier 
with  the  man  who  sat  beside  him — a  member  of  his  Cabinet, 
probably  Seward — he  handed  it  back  to  the  soldier,  saying, 
"Young  man,  keep  that  for  your  children  and  grand-children, 
for  future  generations  will  prize  that  as  the  greatest  heirloom 
you  could  possibly  leave  them." 

The  pursuit  of  the  raiders,  too  long  delayed,  was  now  begun, 
and  we  passed  on  after  them,  crossing  the  Potomac  at  or  near 
Edward's  Ferry.  As  there  were  no  laws  against  such  proceed- 


RETREAT  AND   PURSUIT.  137 

ings  many  of  the  men  cross  en  dishabille,  carrying  their  cloth 
ing  on  heads  or  shoulders.  Nothing  but  laughter  greets  the 
unfortunate  soldiers  who  step  on  slimy  rocks  and  receive  in 
voluntary  immersion.  The  water  was  about  three  feet  deep, 
and  the  current  strong.  Camping  near  by,  excellent  facilities 
are  found  for  securing  food  in  the  way  of  sheep  and  hogs  from 
neighboring  farmers,  always  supposed  to  be  disloyal,  and  in 
the  discussion  of  dainties  thus  secured  the  end  of  the  16th  day 
arrives. 

Next  day  the  march  was  resumed,  and  was  continued  through 
Leesburg  about  four  miles.  Government  rations  falling  short, 
there  was  all  the  more  need  of  replenishment  from  neighboring 
sources,  and  the  regiment  began  taking  lessons  in  self-help,  a 
principle  well  ingrained  before  the  end  of  the  season's  cam 
paign.  On  the  18th  the  march  is  resumed,  extending  through 
Hamilton,  Snickersville  and  Snicker's  Gap  to  the  Shenandoah 
river.  It  was  our  first  viewr  of  the  stream  so  redolent  of  Ameri 
can  history,  and  with  whose  name  that  of  the  6th  Corps 
through  the  events  of  the  coming  months  was  to  be  inextrica 
bly  blended.  A  division  of  our  forces,  8th  Corps,  had  crossed 
the  river,  but  had  been  driven  back  by  the  enemy,  some  of  our 
soldiers  having  drowned,  so  said,  in  the  recrossing.  We  were 
under  fire  for  a  time,  and  a  few  of  the  regiment  wounded. 

Business  begins  early  the  19th,  for  it  is  3  A.  M.  when  the  camp 
is  roused,  rations  drawn,  and  preparations  made  for  breakfast. 
The  latter  is  not  fully  ready  when  orders  come  to  pack  up, 
but  we  lie  here  all  day,  finding  the  berries  on  the  mountain-side 
unusually  good. 

At  10  A.  M.  the  20th,  we  get  away  and  wade  the  Shenandoah 
at  Snicker's  ford  through  thirty  inches  of  water,  and  two  or 
three  miles  beyond  halt.  Hungry  soldiers — they  were  always 
so — soon  gather  in  sheep,  hogs  and  bacon;  what  purveyors! 
A  resident  farmer  says  the  two  armies  have  destroyed  6,000 
sheep  for  him.  If  alive  at  the  end  of  the  century,  one  might 
wonder  what  he  thinks  of  the  protection  of  wool  industries. 
The  21st  saw  a  falling  back  on  our  part,  and  we  recrossed  the 
river  at  about  11  P.  M.,  Company  B  guarding  the  wagon-train. 
Guerrillas  were  troublesome,  and  some  stragglers  are  captured 
by  them.  It  is  an  all  night's  march,  and  before  we  camp  we  have 
passed  through  Leesburg,  crossed  Goose  creek,  near  which  on 
the  22d  we  bivouac;  our  distance  from  Washington  being  esti- 


138  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

mated  from  eight  to  twelve  miles.  This  retiring  upon  Wash 
ington  was  made  on  the  supposition  that  Early  had  returned 
to  Lee's  army,  and  our  6th  Corps  with  the  19th  was  to  rejoin 
Grant  as  quickly  as  possible,  expecting  to  take  waiting  trans 
ports  in  Washington.  It  has  been  claimed  that  in  the  preced 
ing  thirty  days  we  had  traveled  600  miles. 

The  23d  finds  the  Ninth  once  more  in  the  District  of  Colum 
bia.  Having  left  camp  in  the  morning,  we  pass  down  by  the  side 
of  Fort  Marcy,  cross  the  chain  bridge  and  late  in  the  afternoon 
camp  between  Tennallytown  and  Washington,  being  again  on 
familiar  ground.  The  24th  is  Sunday,  and  it  is  a  memorable 
day  in  that  the  regiment  gets  fully  two  bushels  of  back  mail, 
for  in  our  peregrinations  there  had  been  no  effort  made  to  fol 
low  us.  All  sorts  of  rumors  are  afloat  as  to  our  future.  We 
learn  that  the  1st  Vermont,  the  2d  Connecticut  and  the 
9th  New  York,  all  heavy  artillery  regiments,  are  to  remain 
permanently  in  the  defenses,  thus  replacing  us  in  the  22d  Corps. 
Severely  blistered  feet  make  this  grateful  intelligence  to  many, 
but  the  sequel  showed  it  to  be  mere  idle  vaporings.  Grant  had 
other  and  better  use  for  these  disciplined,  well-drilled  veter 
ans  than  to  leave  them  idling  away  their  enlistment  behind 
those  green  sodded  earthworks;  besides,  there  were  officers  in 
the  various  commands  who  could  see  no  laurel-getting  in  such 
humdrum  living.  At  the  present  moment,  however,  we  are 
interested  in  a  Palmyra  (Wayne  county)  visitor,  who  goes 
through  at  least  one  company  distributing  Testaments,  writ 
ing-paper  and  envelopes,  and  he  also  preaches. 

As  if  to  confirm  the  rumors  of  the  day  before,  the  25th  finds 
the  boys  in  motion,  going  back  to  the  Virginia  side  of  the  Poto 
mac,  where  some  of  the  companies  repose  at  the  very  forts 
which  they  left  for  the  front  two  months  before.  As  moves  on 
the  chess-board,  the  occupants  of  the  forts  in  some  cases  de 
parted,  and  we  entered,  but  it  was  a  very  brief  halt,  though  we 
did  have  the  sensation  of  sleeping  under  a  roof  once  more, 
though  only  that  of  army  barracks.  Six  days'  rations  were 
distributed  the  next  morning,  which  did  not  have  a  particular 
ly  permanent  bearing,  and  before  they  could  be  cooked  our 
dream  of  rest  was  dispelled  by  orders  to  pack  up  and  march 
away.  It  is  not  a  forced  march,  for  night  finds  us  in  the  streets 
of  Georgetown,  where  we  get  such  rest  as  the  gutters  and  side 
walks  afford.  From  such  entertainment  it  is  no  hardship  to 


RETREAT  AND   PURSUIT.  139 

tear  ourselves  at  dawn  of  the  27th  and  go  under  our  burdens, 
marching  to  the  northward  through  the  village  of  Rockville, 
between  which  and  Clarksburg  we  encamp.  We  later  learn 
that  if  Early  had  ever  intended  going  back  to  Petersburg,  he 
had  changed  his  mind,  and  his  obvious  northern  tendency  was 
the  cause  of  our  present  tribulations. 

If  this  portion  of  "Maryland,  my  Maryland,"  is  not  well 
known  to  members  of  the  9th  New  York  Heavy  Artillery, 
it  is  not  the  fault  of  those  who  direct  our  footsteps.  We  start 
at  daylight  of  the  28th,  and  put  a  goodly  distance  between  our 
selves  and  our  camping-place  before  we  halt  for  breakfast  near 
Clarksburg.  Thence  we  pass  through  Hyattstown  and  Urbana 
to  our  battle-field  of  Monocacy;  unconsciously  we  have  taken 
in  reverse  the  very  course  pursued  by  our  comrades  captured 
here,  who  after  the  fight,  as  prisoners  had  accompanied  the 
Johnnies  in  their  march  to  the  head  of  Seventh  street,  Washing 
ton.  We  linger  long  enough  on  the  field  to  recall  impressions  of 
that  brisk  little  engagement,  and  then  we  pass  on  to  the  moun 
tains  northward,  going  round  the  city  of  Frederick.  No  one 
will  ever  know  just  why  we  make  this  circuit,  for  we  come  back 
to  the  Harper's  Ferry  turnpike,  along  which  we  march,  or  a 
very  small  portion  of  the  regiment,,  for  the  greater  part  straggle, 
leaving  only  a  fraction  to  go  into  camp  at  Jefferson.  A  short 
cut  across  the  country  would  have  saved  miles  of  travel  and 
hundreds  of  blisters,  but  we  should  not  have  seen  so  much  of 
the  locality  that  Whittier  said  was — 

"Fair  as  the  garden  of  the  Lord, 

To  the  eyes  of  the  famished  rebel  horde." 

Twinges  of  pain  all  along  the  soles  of  our  feet  render  us 
somewhat  oblivious  to  the  beauty  of  our  surroundings,  and 
those  who  had  fallen  out  were  chiefly  intent  on  catching  up. 
It  is  hardly  a  fragment  that  for  some  inexplicable  cause  is 
hurrying  along  at  this  breakneck  pace.  From  Jefferson  on  the 
29th  we  bear  off  to  the  northward,  passing  through  Petersville, 
and  the  next  day  we  march  through  Harper's  Ferry  and  on  to 
Halltown,  four  miles  or  so.  We  have  marched  more  than 
seventy-five  miles  from  Washington  in  considerably  less  than 
three  days.  The  next  day,  the  30th,  we  turn  about  and  retrace 
our  steps  to  the  Potomac,  crossing  the  same  upon  a  pontoon 
bridge.  All  this  reads  easily  enough,  but  no  pen  can  do  justice 


140  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

to  the  heat  that  poured  down  upon  the  men  who  waited  in  that 
narrow  gorge  on  the  Shenandoah  side  for  their  turn  at  the 
crossing.  If  we  only  could  have  looked  up  the  scenes  of  John 
Brown's  raid,  when  twenty  negroes,  five  white  men  and  a  cow 
had  thrown  Virginia  into  paroxysms,  we  might  have  waited 
to  a  purpose,  but  it  was  too  hot  and  explorations  were  under 
ban.  Long,  long  hours  were  thus  spent,  and  it  was  not  till 
past  midnight  that  some  of  ours  took  their  swaying  way  over 
the  floating  bridge,  passed  on  through  Sandy  Hook,  and  all  the 
rest  of  the  night  pushed  along  towards  the  north. 

The  last  day  of  July,  1864,  was  signalized  by  a  march  un- 
equaled  even  by  that  made  by  the  6th  Corps  when  it  hastened 
towards  Gettysburg.  No  rain  had  fallen  in  weeks,  hence  the 
dust  was  everywhere.  The  mercury  danced  in  the  higher  90 
degrees,  even  in  the  shade,  and  in  the  sunlight  it  nearly  boiled. 
No  wonder  that  man  and  beast  suffered  indescribably.  The 
fallen  horse  was  left  to  rise  again,  if  he  could,  only  to  be  seized 
by  a  frolicsome  drummer  or  bummer  and  ridden  till  he  fell 
again.  Nearly  a  hundred  men  are  said  to  have  suffered  from 
sunstroke  on  this  forced  march  to  head  off  Early,  who  had 
really  turned  north  and  was  paying  his  attentions  to  Chambers- 
burg*  and  neighboring  towns.  General  Wright  was  besought 
to  moderate  his  pace,  but  his  reply  was,  "My  orders  are  to  reach 
Frederick  at  2  P.  M.,  and  I  shall  do  it  if  I  go  alone."  Just  five 
minutes  in  each  hour  were  given  for  rest,  and  this  under  the 
pitiless  sun.  Again  the  corps  must  stand  between  the  enemy 
and  Washington. 

August  entered  with  the  6th  Corps  having  as  near  a  rest  as 
these  men  of  swift  feet,  later  to  be  called  Sheridan's  foot  cav 
alry,  ever  had.  They  are  in  camp,  though  a  portion  of  the 
Ninth  is  on  picket.  Lest  inactivity  might  stiffen  the  joints  of 
our  men,  we  take  a  morning  march  on  the  2d  and,  having  raided 
a  flour  mill,  ford  the  Monocacy,  and  again  go  into  camp.  On 
the  following  day  as  if  to  compensate  the  miller  for  his  loss  of 
flour,  the  cavalry  and  artillery  pay  him  extra  for  his  hay.  Dur 
ing  the  4th  there  is  actual  rest  with  the  added  pleasure  of  a 
full  complement  of  rations,  through  all  of  which  wearied  nature 
quickly  rallies,  and  has  energy  enough  to  parade  through  the 


*Burned  on  the  30th  by  McCausland,  who  told  a  local  clergyman  that 
he  was  from  hell,  a  statement  that  the  minister  had  no  disposition  to 
dispute. 


RETREAT  AND  PURSUIT.  141 

camp  a  lad  of  acquisitive  tendencies  bearing  on  his  person  the 
label  "Thief." 

At  no  time  in  the  regiment's  experience  were  the  conven 
iences  for  bathing  better  than  those  afforded  by  the  clear 
waters  of  the  Monocacy.  What  delicious  memories  of  incom 
parable  swimming!  If  a  man  couldn't  swim,  he  had  ample  op 
portunity  to  paddle.  These  aqueous  privileges  did  as  much 
as  their  rations  towards  renewing  the  strength  and  energy  of 
the  wearied  men. 

The  rising  sun  of  the  6th  beheld  the  tents  down  and  all  in 
readiness  to  march,  but  delays  follow.  There  is  nothing  to  do 
but  lie  in  the  hot  sun  and  grumble.  Some  suspend  their  can 
vas  as  awnings  and  thus  get  some  relief.  In  this  way  the  day 
passes,  and  after  dark  we  pack  up  and  move  to  Monocacy  Junc 
tion,  where  we  use  our  knapsacks  for  pillows  till  morning. 
The  next  day,  the  6th,  we  vary  the  monotony  of  our  marching 
by  a  car-ride  to  Harper's  Ferry,  through  which  we  march  and, 
two  miles  away,  camp.  On  account  of  our  regular  visits  to 
this  place,  some  of  the  Vermont  vets  dubbed  the  6th  Corps 
"Harper's  Weekly."  Till  the  10th  the  time  is  spent  in  camp 
getting  ready  for  the  approaching  campaign,  of  which,  however, 
we  know  nothing.  Few  if  any  were  aware  that  General  Grant 
had  had  an  interview  with  Sheridan  on  the  6th  in  an  upper 
chamber  of  Colonel  C.  K.  Thomas's  house  at  Monocacy  Junc 
tion  while  we  were  embarking,  and  that  then  was  outlined  the 
campaign  to  end  only  when  Early  was  sent  "whirling  up  the 
valley." 

Hunter  was  relieved  of  his  command  of  the  Army  of  the 
Shenandoah ;  the  Middle  Military  Division  was  constituted  with 
General  Philip  H.  Sheridan  in  command,  whose  headquarters, 
though  he  never  said  so,  were  always  in  the  saddle.  Grant  was 
determined  that  henceforth  there  should  be  no  open  door  in  his 
rear,  and  that  the  granary  of  Virginia  or  the  Shenandoah 
valley  should  no  longer  yield  its  plenty  to  aid  and  comfort  the 
enemy.  After  the  protracted  experience,  beginning  July  9th 
at  Monocacy,  these  days  of  rest  were  particularly  grateful. 
During  this  time,  orders  were  promulgated  as  to  the  discipline 
to  be  observed  on  the  approaching  march.  Court-martial 
awaited  him  who  straggled  or  left  the  ranks  without  permis 
sion,  for  we  were  to  pass  through  a  section  alive  with  guerrillas 
and  bushwhackers.  We  were  to  march  one  hour  before  break- 


142  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

fast,  to  have  one  hour  for  that  meal,  and  to  rest  ten  minutes 
after  each  hour's  march.  An  hour  was  given  for  dinner,  and 
we  were  to  have  supper  at  dark.  Officers  were  to  see  that  can 
teens  were  filled  at  halts. 


CHAPTER     XVI. 

THE  VALLEY  AND  WINCHESTER. 

The  10th  of  August  beheld  the  advance  begun  and  we  march 
through  Charlestown,  where  December  2d,  1859,  was  presented 
the  final  scene  in  the  John  Brown  tragedy,  whose  first  act  was 
at  Harper's  Ferry,  the  16th  of  the  preceding  October ;  a  tragedy 
whose  sequel  was  the  war  in  whose  fourth  year  we  are  march 
ing  and  fighting.  Here  the  old  hero  was  confined,  tried,  and 
hanged,  and  Judge  Parker,  who  presided  at  the  trial,  is  a  resi 
dent,  to  survive  the  war  many  years.  We  can  see  the  court 
house,  the  jail,  though  in  ruins,  and,  in  the  distance,  the  field 
where  was  erected  the  gallows  from  whose  crosstree,  less  than 
five  years  before,  on  that  December  day,  hung  the  incarnation 
of  hatred  of  slavery.  Thousands  sang  "John  Brown's  Body," 
and  it  is  claimed  that  no  Northern  soldiers  ever  marched 
through  the  place  without  giving  the  citizens  the  full  benefit 
of  their  musical  qualities  in  the  John  Brown  line,  nor  forget 
ting  to  state  their  intentions  to  hang  Jeff.  Davis  to  a  sour  apple- 
tree. 

We,  however,  have  no  time  for  moralizing,  though  farmers  in 
our  ranks  could  not  help  noting  the  beauty  and  fertility  of  the 
region — a  limestone  country,  and  clear,  cold  water,  hard  of 
course,  but  central  New  Yorkers  are  used  to  that.  Early  apples 
are  prime,  and  green  corn  excellent.  Southdown  mutton,  hogs 
and  poultry  betokened  good  farmers  whose  fields  were  glad 
with  grain  and  fruit — a  fair  picture  for  soldiers  to  view,  but 
too  often  clouded  with  the  results  of  war.  Our  first  camp  is 
pitched  at  5  P.  M. 

The  sun  of  the  llth  is  not  up  earlier  than  we,  and  we  zigzag, 
between  railroad  and  river,  till  we  strike  the  Winchester  and 
Berryville  turnpike  west  of  the  latter  place.  Much  of  our  way 
is  through  fields  and  lanes,  shaded  with  oak,  locust,  sassafras 
and  wild  cherry,  a  condition  coming  as  near  poetry  as  war  ever 


THE  VALLEY  AND  WINCHESTER.  143 

gets.  Our  camping-place  is  eight  miles  from  Newtown,  near 
Clifton.  The  12th  carries  us  through  Newtown  and  Middle- 
town  to  Cedar  creek,  on  whose  banks  we  camp,  quite  unsuspect 
ing  the  history  to  be  written  here  in  blood  a  few  weeks  later. 
The  enemy  is  not  far  away,  and  a  sharp  skirmish  ensues  be 
tween  the  foe  and  some  of  the  8th  Corps,  who  have  been  thrown 
across  to  discover  if  possible  the  situation.  On  the  13th  all 
cross  the  creek  and  move  southward  to  the  vicinity  of  Stras- 
burg,  where  Early  was  strongly  placed  on  Fisher's  hill.  Deem 
ing  discretion  the  better  part  of  valor,  we  face  about  and,  re 
turning,  recross  Cedar  creek,  and  go  into  camp.  On  the  march, 
corn  and  pork  are  early  secured,  and  the  laugh  is  on  one  party 
of  investigators,  who  from  a  mill  carry  away  a  quantity  of  un 
slaked  lime,  mistaking  it  for  wheat-flour. 

For  three  days  the  regiment  camps.  The  grounds  are  policed 
and  tents  pitched.  The  neighboring  country  richly  supplements 
army  rations,  for  green  corn,  apples  and  all  kinds  of  meat  may 
be  had  by  very  little  exertion.  Wheat-flour  can  be  secured 
from  a  mill  near  by,  and  the  new  luxury  of  honey  is  brought 
into  camp  in  great  quantities,  for  the  bees  of  the  valley  appear 
to  be  very  numerous  and  more  than  proverbially  busy.  Sol 
diers  of  inquisitive  or  scientific  disposition — the  terms  are  near 
ly  synonymous — have  much  satisfaction  in  exploring  a  large 
cave  near  Cedar  creek,  a  curiosity  by  no  means  rare  in  this  lime 
stone  region. 

But  we  are  not  here  merely  for  a  summer  outing,  and  in  the 
evening  of  the  16th*  we  pack  up  and  retrace  our  steps  towards 
Winchester,  along  that 

"Good,  broad  highway  leading  down," 

whose  every  inch  we  were  fated  to  know  ere  the  snows  of 
winter  settled  its  dust.  It  is  an  all-night  march,  and  the  sun 
is  an  hour  high  before  we  halt  for  breakfast.  That  finished, 
we  proceed,  passing  through  Winchester  and  out  on  the  Berry- 
ville  pike  about  four  miles,  crossing  the  Opequon  creek  and 
camp. 

Middletown  is  twelve  or  more  miles  from  Winchester  on  the 


*On  this  day  a  brisk  cavalry  engagement  was  fought  at  Cedarville  on 
the  Front  Royal  pike  between  General  Merritt  and  Fitz  Lee,  and  though 
ending  successfully  for  the  Union  side,  it  may  have  caused  Sheridan's 
withdrawal,  he  preferring  to  choose  his  own  battlefield. 


144 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


THE   SHENANDOAH  VALLEY. 


THE  VALLEY  AND  WINCHESTER.  145 

main  turnpike,  and  from  it  a  road  leads  up  the  Luray  valley,  since 
the  projection  of  the  Massanuttan  mountain  here  divides  the 
Shenandoah  valley  into  two  divisions.  Front  Koyal  lies  further 
to  the  east  and  at  the  entrance  to  the  Luray.  Its  location 
made  Middletown  a  place  of  unusual  importance.  Through 
the  Luray  valley  were  approaching  Fitz  Lee  and  Kershaw  with 
two  divisions  just  from  Petersburg.  Moseby  was  active  near 
Berryville,  hence  the  necessity  of  the  reverse  movement.  The 
valley  that  we  were  to  know  so  well  extended  from  Harper's 
Ferry  to  Staunton,  a  distance  of  more  than  120  miles.  With 
the  former  place  or  Martinsburg,  twenty  miles  further  west 
and  even  more  remote  from  Winchester  as  the  base  of  supplies, 
any  one  can  see  that  Sheridan's  great  problem  was  to  keep 
communications  open.  The  section  was  terribly  hostile,  hence 
the  necessity  of  making  the  long  halts  near  the  foot  of  the 
valley,  or  in  proximity  to  our  base. 

Rapid  cannon  and  musket  firing  in  the  direction  of  Winches 
ter  indicates  that  the  enemy  has  kept  near  us.  The  Jersey 
brigade,  1st  Division,  with  some  cavalry  had  faced  about  just 
to  see  who  are  following.  The  vigor  of  the  enemy's  attack  soon 
imparted  all  the  knowledge  necessary,  and  in  considerable  dis 
array  they  continue  their  retreat.  On  the  18th  we  march  to 
Berryville,  and  then  return  to  our  late  camping-place,  prepare 
and  eat  our  dinners  and  then  march  to  the  vicinity  of  Charles- 
town,  camping  at  or  near  midnight.  The  19th  finds  us  in  camp 
and  guarding  the  turnpike  leading  from  Harper's  Ferry  to 
Winchester.  Our  location  is  delightful,  with  most  excellent 
springs,  and  near  by  is  the  extensive  farm  of  a  Mr.  Davenport, 
who  had  some  fame  as  an  importer  of  Alpaca  sheep. 

All  quiet  till  Sunday,  about  10  A.  M.,  when  as  the  men  were 
preparing  for  inspection,  without  any  warning  hostile  shells 
were  pitched  into  the  camp,  and  the  whistling  of  bullets  called 
the  soldiers  into  line.  It  appeared  that  Early  wanted  to  find 
out  just  where  we  were,  and  so  stirred  up  the  Vermont  brigade 
of  the  2d  Division;  by  the  way,  a  most  excellent  source  of  in 
formation,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  retired  from  the  pres 
ence  of  those  Green  Mountain  boys  indicated  that  his  lesson 
in  geography  was  well  learned.  The  fight  was  known  as  the 
Battle  of  Charlestown.  As  for  the  Ninth,  we  were  repeatedly 
in  line,  but  as  usual  there  didn't  appear  to  be  any  place  just 
fitted  for  us,  so  there  was  no  end  of  marching  by  front  and 
10 


146  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

flank,  right  and  left  facing,  battle-line  and  all  sorts  of  places, 
and  finally  we  settled  down  to  our  old  occupation  of  building 
breastworks.  Here  we  were  quite  at  home,  but  again  as  usual, 
just  as  we  had  them  nearly  completed,  about  midnight,  we  left 
them  and  passed  rapidly  to  Bolivar  Heights  near  Harper's 
Ferry.  Old  friends  in  the  8th  New  York  Cavalry  are  greeted 
as  the  regiment  passes  us. 

From  the  22d  to  the  28th  of  August,,  we  are  encamped  with 
only  the  variation  of  change  of  position  to  right  or  left,  picket 
experience,  and  such  interest  as  comes  from  the  knowledge  that 
the  enemy  is  near  us.  He  had  dogged  our  footsteps,  but  we 
wTere  accomplishing  our  mission,  viz.,  keeping  him  from  further 
northern  raids.  Cavalry  skirmishes  and  frequent  cannonading 
prevent  any  great  degree  of  camp  ennui,  and  ingenuity  in  the 
cooking  line  maintains  the  physical  man  in  good  form. 

In  this  period  the  Confederates  had  made  their  last  effort  to 
cross  the  Potomac.  It  was  at  Williamsport,  but  the  immediate 
presence  of  Custer  and  his  men  prevented,  and  Early  fell  back, 
duly  followed  by  Sheridan  and  his  army. 

At  8  A.  M.  on  the  28th  we  once  more  advance  slowly  south 
ward,  passing  through  Charlestown  in  the  afternoon,  and  again 
encamp  near  the  Davenport  place.  Lieutenant  Freeoff,  in  com 
mand  of  Company  M,  in  a  letter  home  August  29th,  says  the 
two  battalions  of  the  Ninth  in  the  field  number  but  214  men; 
M,  the  largest,  has  fifty-three;  C,  the  smallest,  just  sixteen. 
He  says  the  bodies  of  our  dead  are  invariably  robbed,  in  one 
case  to  the  very  last  stitch  of  clothing.  Artillery  firing  near 
Berry ville  September  3d  attests  the  near  presence  of  the  enemy; 
we  subsequently  learn  that  Kershaw's  division,  under  orders  to 
return  to  Petersburg,  and  quite  ignorant  of  our  presence,  had, 
in  the  language  of  Sheridan,  "blundered"  into  Crook's  lines.  As 
the  rebels  had  no  desire  to  stay,  it  didn't  take  them  long  to  get 
away. 

In  this  locality  the  army  remains  three  weeks,  a  long  halt  for 
us;  yet  possibly  we  accomplish  just  what  we  were  set  to  do.  Of 
course  every  regiment  and  company  have  their  particular  inci 
dents,  but  few  of  them  were  bloody.  Camp-sites  were  changed  oc 
casionally,  and  we  were  conversant  with  the  country  from  Smith- 
field  to  Berryville.  We  guard  wagon-trains,  pick  blackberries 
and  raspberries,  with  which  the  fields  abound,  read  the  papers, 
build  breastworks,  draw  rations,  have  inspections,  dress-parade, 


THE  VALLEY  AND  WINCHESTER.  147 

and  even  get  back  to  an  old-fashioned  drill.  Our  quiet,  how 
ever,  is  only  the  lull  before  the  storm.  The  most  noteworthy 
event  of  this  interval  to  us  was  the  joining  us,  on  the  16th, 
of  our  regimental  band  with  Company  Q,*  which  had  been 
having  a  good  time  in  the  defenses,  though  on  this  very  day 
General  Grant  was  having  an  interview  with  Sheridan  in 
Charlestown,  whose  results  we  were  soon  to  experience.  Grant 
had  drawn  up  a  scheme  of  offense,  but  he  was  so  well  satisfied 
with  Sheridan's  fully  formed  plans  that  he  left  him  with  the 
single  injunction,  "Go  in."  However,  with  plans,  men  who 
carried  guns  had  very  little  to  do.  They  were  intrusted,  how 
ever,  with  their  execution.  All  the  minutiae  of  camp  life  are 
maintained  for  the  following  two  days. 

We  start  away  at  2  A.  M.  on  the  19th,  destined  to  be  a  mem 
orable  day  in  our  lives  and  in  the  annals  of  the  nation.  In 
guarded  manner  we  march  southward,  and  before  daylight  are 
at  the  crossing  of  Opequon  creek,  from  which  some  name  the 
battle,  though  it  is  better  known  as  Sheridan's  Battle  of  Win 
chester.  In  guarded  manner,  with  Company  B  flanking,  we 
march  westward,  reaching  the  Opequon  creek  before  daylight 
and  here  pass  the  head  of  the  19th  Corps.  The  Berryville  pike 
ran  through  a  deep  gorge,  and  on  this  the  artillery  and  wagons 
proceeded,  while  the  infantry  marched  in  two  columns,  one  on 
each  side  of  the  road.  It  had  been  Sheridan's  design  to  attack 
Early's  right,  and  if  possible  pass  to  his  rear  while  our  cavalry 
were  holding  the  attention  of  his  left,  hoping  to  thus  effect  his 
entire  destruction,  but  delays  had  admitted  of  the  union  of  his 
divisions  and  we  were  to  assail  his  entire  force. 

It  should  be  stated  that  the  day  before,  in  accordance  with 
his  chronic  disposition  to  destroy  railroads,  Early  had  sent 
Gordon  towards  Martinsburg,  which,  coming  to  the  notice  of 
Sheridan,  the  latter  was  quick  to  recognize  as  his  opportunity 
to  attack  the  enemy  in  detail,  and  his  orders  were  given  accord 
ingly,  but  in  the  telegraph  office  of  Martinsburg,  Early  had 
learned  of  the  recent  visit  of  Grant  to  Sheridan,  and  at  once 
suspecting  that  action  would  follow  such  an  interview,  he  pro 
ceeded  to  reunite  his  divided  army,  or  to  get  its  parts  within 
supporting  distance  of  each  other. 


*By  common  consent  a  name  given  to  the  many  men  who  linger  in 
hospitals  and  camps  ever  ready  with  reasons  why  they  should  not  do 
regular  duty. 


148 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


From  Chaplain  Hayne's  "10th  Vermont." 

WINCHESTER  BATTLEFIELD. 


THE  VALLEY  AND  WINCHESTER.  149 

The  battle  had  begun  at  5  o'clock  by  Wilson's  Cavalry  driv 
ing  the  enemy's  pickets  to  their  first  line  of  defense,  and  actu 
ally  leaping  their  horses  over  the  works,  they  captured  fifty  or 
more  of  the  foe.  Melancholy  interest  is  added  to  the  advance 
of  our  corps  as  we  meet  wounded  men  in  varying  conditions 
of  injury;  sometimes  they  are  leading  wounded  horses;  here 
may  lie  one  receiving  the  care  of  comrades,  and  many,  stretched 
out  in  death,  effectually  answered  Joe  Hooker's  bantering 
question,  "Whoever  saw  a  dead  cavalryman?"  Sheridan  him 
self,  well-nigh  ubiquitous,  assists  in  the  alignment.  The  2d 
Division  of  the  6th  Corps  holds  the  left  of  the  line,  and  our  3d 
is  next,  with  the  1st  in  reserve  back  of  us.  Had  the  19th  Corps 
been  ready  to  continue  our  line  to  the  right,  according  to  Sheri 
dan's  plans,  who  can  tell  how  much  more  effectual  the  day's 
work  might  have  been,  but  there  is  a  delay  of  more  than  two 
hours,  occasioned,  it  is  said,  by  an  ammunition  train,  before 
the  corps  is  with  us.  Wilson  and  his  cavalry  are  looking  out 
for  our  extreme  left.  Crook,  with  his  8th  Corps,  Averill  and 
Merritt  with  their  cavalry  are  in  reserve,  but  in  time  they  will 
give  an  account  of  themselves  on  the  extreme  right. 

It  was  about  9  o'clock  when  our  corps  took  its  place,  and  we 
have  waited  long.  The  2d  Brigade,  under  General  J.  Warren 
Keifer,  is  at  the  right  of  the  division,  and  is  wholly  north  of 
the  Berryville  pike.  It  is  nearly  noon  when  the  19th  Corps 
moves  up  and  Grover's  2d  Division  touches  our  right.  Among 
his  regiment  is  the  75th  New  York,  containing  hundreds  of  our 
school-mates  and  relatives,  many  of  whom  this  day's  work  will 
consign,  with  our  immediate  comrades,  to  graves  in  the  Na 
tional  Cemetery,  at  a  later  date  to  be  planted  on  this  very  road, 
between  us  and  the  city.  The  Opequon  is  fully  a  mile  back 
of  us,  while  Winchester  is  in  plain  view  in  front.  The  inter 
vening  land  is  generally  open,  with  some  pieces  of  woods  with 
cornfields  and  meadows  with  occasional  houses,  but  numerous 
ravines  render  it  a  hard  surface  on  which  to  maintain  align 
ment. 

Till  nearly  12  o'clock,  the  fighting  was  confined  to  the  skir 
mishers.  Then,  came  the  order  to  advance.  Bodes  and  Bam- 
seur  command  the  enemy  in  our  immediate  front,  and  on  their 
left  Gordon  faces  Grover.  No  earthworks  have  been  thrown  up 
on  either  side,  so  it  is  a  fair  stand-up  fight  with  no  favors,  but 
it  is  a  terrible  ordeal  through  which  we  are  compelled  to  pass, 
one  to  appall  the  stoutest  heart. 


150  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

The  Ninth  is  in  the  second  line,  having  the  122d  and  110th 
Ohio,  in  that  order,  at  our  right,  thus  bringing  us  quite  near 
to  the  pike,  so  often  mentioned,  which  had  been  pointed 
out  as  the  guide  for  our  advance.  This  road  had  a  southerly 
trend  soon  after  our  starting  that  must  have  been  overlooked 
by  those  giving  it  as  a  line  of  direction.  At  any  rate,  adherence 
to  this  order  soon  caused  a  divergence  of  the  respective  courses 
of  the  two  corps,  and  General  Keifer  in  his  report  thus  states: 

As  the  lines  advanced  the  interval  became  greater.  The 
enemy  discovering  this  fact  hurled  a  large  body  of  men  towards 
the  interval  and  threatened  to  take  my  right  in  flank.  I  at 
once  caused  the  138th  and  67th  Pennsylvania  and  the  110th 
Ohio  to  break  their  connection  with  the  right  of  the  remainder 
of  my  brigade,  and  to  move  towards  the  advancing  column  of 
the  enemy.  These  three  regiments  most  gallantly  met  the 
overwhelming  masses  of  the  enemy  and  held  them  in  check. 
The  19th  Corps  soon  came  up  and  encountered  a  very  heavy 
force  of  the  enemy  in  a  wood  to  the  right  of  the  three  regiments 
named.  As  soon  as  the  19th  Corps  engaged  the  enemy,  the 
force  in  my  front  commenced  slowly  retiring.  I  pushed  for 
ward  the  three  regiments  until  we  came  upon  two  batteries 
(eight  guns),  silencing  them  and  compelling  the  enemy  to 
abandon  them.  The  three  regiments  had  arrived  within  less 
than  200  yards  of  the  two  batteries  when  the  19th  Corps,  after 
a  most  gallant  resistance,  gave  way.  The  enemy  at  once  came 
upon  my  right  flank  in  great  force.  Successful  resistance  was 
no  longer  possible;  the  three  regiments  had  already  suffered 
heavily,  and  were  obliged  to  fall  back  in  some  disorder.  The 
enemy  regained  a  portion  of  the  ground  from  which  they  had 
been  driven.  In  falling  back  we  lost  no  prisoners.  The  broken 
troops  of  my  brigade  were  halted  and  reformed  in  a  wood 
behind  the  reserve,  which  had  come  forward  to  fill  up  the  in 
terval.  As  soon  as  they  were  reformed  they  were  moved  for 
ward  again  over  the  same  ground  they  had  advanced  the  first 
time.  While  moving  this  portion  of  my  brigade  forwrard,  I  re 
ceived  an  order  from  General  Kicketts,  commanding  the  divi 
sion,  to  again  unite  my  brigade  near  the  centre  of  the  corps  and 
to  the  right  of  the  turnpike  near  a  house.  This  order  was  obeyed 
at  once,  and  my  whole  brigade  was  formed  in  one  line,  imme 
diately  confronting  the  enemy.  The  four  regiments  of  my 
brigade  that  were  upon  the  left  kept  connection  with  the  1st 
Brigade,  3d  Division,  and  fought  desperately,  in  the  main  driv 
ing  the  enemy.  They  also  captured  a  considerable  number  of 
prisoners  in  their  first  advance.  Heavy  firing  was  kept  up 
along  the  whole  line  till  about  4  P.  M.,  when  a  general  advance 
took  place.  The  enemy  gave  way  before  the  impetuosity  of  our 
troops  and  soon  were  completely  routed.  This  brigade  pressed 


THE  VALLEY  AND  WINCHESTER.  151 

with  the  advanced  line  to  and  into  the  streets  of  Winchester. 
The  rout  of  the  enemy  was  everywhere  complete.  Night  came 
on,  and  the  pursuit  of  the  enemy  was  stopped.  The  troops  of 
my  brigade  encamped  with  the  corps  on  the  Strasburg  and 
Front  Royal  roads  south  of  Winchester. 

The  divergence  of  the  two  corps  on  account  of  the  trend  of 
the  Berryville  pike  came  near  proving  a  fatal  mishap  to  our 
cause.  Indeed,  General  Early  fancied  that  he  had  won  a  vic 
tory,  and  so  proclaimed,  but  he  little  realized  the  resources  of 
the  Union  army.  Not  only  had  Ricketts  made  the  sudden  turn 
of  his  men,  but  when  the  enemy  came  sweeping  in  upon  the 
19th  Corps,  expecting  to  prove  a  veritable  wedge,  driven 
through  the  Federal  lines,  General  Russell,  with  his  1st  Divi 
sion,  till  then  in  reserve,  was  ready  to  attack  the  rebels  in 
flank  and  to  turn  upon  them  the  fire  of  his  batteries.  The 
triumph  of  the  foe  was  short,  for  he  was  driven  back  with 
terrible  loss,  but  we  paid  dearly  for  our  victory,  since  here  fell 
General  Russell,*  of  whom  Sheridan  said,  "I  have  lost  my  cap 
tain." 

Coming  back  to  our  own  regiment,  as  we  pass  through  the 
woods  in  our  front,  we  encounter  the  fire  of  the  batteries,  noted 
by  General  Keifer,  and  it  was  thus  early  in  the  day  that  we 
met  our  severest  losses.  Here  it  was,  while  passing  through 
a  field  on  the  Dinkle  farm,  that  a  single  volley  killed  Myron 
Fish,  Samuel  Myers  and  Charles  Thomas  of  Company  B.  Young 
Fish  had  just  said  to  his  nearest  neighbor,  Vernon  R.  Howell, 
"Gosh!  Vern,  they  are  coming  thick,"  when  his  head  was 
pierced  by  a  bullet,  and  he  fell  dead.  Four  others  were  mortally 
wounded,  and  the  day's  losses  for  the  company  footed  up  eleven 
others  wounded,  including  Lieutenant  Fish  himself.  On  the 
way  to  the  encounter,  in  the  early  morn,  he  had  been  oppressed 
with  forebodings  of  ill,  and  he  had  asked  the  1st  sergeant,  James 
H.  Thatcher,  to  look  after  the  company  accounts  if  anything 
should  happen  to  him,  for  he  was  in  command  of  the  company, 
but  it  was  the  son,  not  the  father,  who  was  to  be  called.  Though 


*David  A.  Russell  was  born  in  Salem,  fr.  Y.,  Dec.  10,  1820;  West 
Point,  1845;  classmate  of  "Baldy"  Smith,  Fitz  John  Porter,  Gordon 
Granger,  and  others;  won  distinction  in  the  Mexican  war;  was  a  captain 
in  the  4th  Infantry  when  the  Rebellion  began;  served  in  the  defenses 
till  he  became  colonel  of  the  7th  Massachusetts  Infantry;  was  repeat 
edly  promoted  for  bravery,  and  his  gallant  death  made  him  brevet 
major  general,  U.  S.  A. 


152  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

severely  wounded  the  lieutenant  refused  to  leave  the  field.  His 
company  numbered  forty-two  at  the  beginning  of  the  day.  Lan 
guage  is  inadequate  to  express  the  regret  of  every  survivor  of 
the  Ninth  Heavy  that  Major  Burgess  did  not  describe  in  detail 
the  part  borne  by  his  command  in  this  great  battle.  His  report 
simply  states  what  every  one  knows,  viz.,  that  the  regiment 
was  in  the  engagement. 

As  already  noted,  the  divergence  of  the  lines  interrupted  an 
otherwise  unbroken  advance,  and  the  repulse  of  the  3d  Divi 
sion  compelled  a  falling  back  and  a  reformation.  In  one  of 
the  ravines,  with  which  the  surface  abounded,  our  regiment 
sought  shelter,  reformed  and  awaited  orders.  When  the  same 
came  to  again  advance,  to  the  minds  of  those  present,  the  air 
seemed  almost  solid  with  lead  and  iron,  and  the  disposition  to 
respond  was  not  tumultuous;  but  Color  Sergeant  John  Her 
mann,  rising,  and  turning  to  the  color-guard,  remarked  to 
James  Marvin  by  his  side,  "Will  you  go  with  me,  Jim?"  The 
latter  was  ready,  and  these  two  moving  forward  were  speedily 
followed  by  all  the  rest,  and  they  had  their  part  in  the  advance 
that  scarcely  halted  till  they  had  passed  through  Winchester. 
There  are  those  who  recall  the  bravery  of  a  mother  and 
daughter  who  stood  in  their  doorway  refusing  to  fly  or  hide, 
and  when  pressed  for  a  reason,  said  they  were  safer  there  than 
elsewhere,  for  no  one  would  fire  at  them  if  seen,  but  if  hidden 
they  might  be  shot  by  accident.  Whether  their  reasoning  was 
good  or  not,  they  escaped  unharmed. 

Fox  in  his  book  of  regimental  losses  makes  that  of  our  regi 
ment,  eight  companies,  at  this  battle  as  twenty-two,  not  so 
groat  as  in  other  encounters,  still  carrying  unending  grief  into 
many  Northern  homes.  The  death  of  General  Robert  E.  Rodes* 
of  Early's  army  in  the  fierce  charge  against  Ricketts  and 
Grover  might  be  considered  as  an  offset  to  that  of  General 
Russell  of  our  forces  at  the  same  time. 

The  superb  generalship  of  Sheridan  was  evident  in  the  man 
ner  in  which  the  finishing  stroke  was  given  to  his  victory. 
As  before  stated,  Crook's  8th  Corps  had  been  held  in  reserve, 


*Rodes  was  in  command  of  the  rebel  right,  and  was  one  of  the  most 
trusted  officers  of  the  Confederate  army.  Born  in  Lynchburg,  March 
29,  1829,  he  was  educated  at  the  Military  School  of  Lexington,  and  had 
been  a  teacher  in  the  same.  He  entered  the  Confederate  service  as 
the  colonel  of  an  Alabama  regiment. 


THE  VALLEY  AND  WINCHESTER.  153 

and  Torbert,  with  all  the  cavalry  on  the  right,  had  been  sent 
a  long  distance  around,  that  at  the  proper  moment  they  might 
strike  the  enemy  in  flank.  When  the  6th  and  19th  Corps  had 
effectually  performed  the  tasks  allotted  them  and  the  foe  was 
slowly  but  surely  retiring,  there  came  loud  shouts  and  heavy 
firing  beyond  the  right  of  our  already  widely  extended  lines. 
What  did  it  mean?  Then  it  was  that  Sheridan  came  riding 
down,  and  was  heard  to  say,  "I  have  put  Torbert  on  the  right 
and  told  him  to  give  them  h — 1,  and  he  is  doing  it.  Crook  is  on 
the  right  and  giving  it  to  them;  press  them;  I  know  they'll  run." 
Then  followed  the  fierce  onset,  and  they  did  run.  This  closing  act 
of  the  day,  the  artist,  Thurlstrup,  seized  for  his  masterly  repre 
sentation,  calling  it  "Sheridan's  Last  Charge  at  Winchester." 
Never  was  there  a  better  place  for  a  cavalry  charge,  and  never 
was  one  better  made.  To  thousands  the  impression  was  as 
vivid  as  that  made  in  "Scotland  Forever,"  at  Waterloo.  The 
yellow  locks  of  Custer  appear  well  in  advance,  but  with  him 
ride  Lowell,  in  just  one  month  to  fall  at  Cedar  Creek,  Roden- 
bough  and  Baker  of  the  regular  troops. 

"Oh,  the  wild  charge  they  made!" 

Boldly  they  rode,  and  well.  Nothing  that  Early  could  oppose 
was  strong  enough  to  stem  such  a  tide,  and  they  swept  horse, 
foot  and  artillery  before  them.  With  flashing  sabres  they  rode, 
veritable  demons  of  war,  crowding  multitudes  of  the  flying 
foe  into  surrender.  They  thread  the  battle-wrecked  streets  of 
the  city;  nothing  escapes  them  till  finally  they  drive  Early  into 
his  stronghold  at.  Fisher's  hill.  There  was  propriety  in  the  mes 
sage  of  Sheridan,  "We  have  just  sent  them  whirling  through 
Winchester." 

How  strangely  all  these  combats  of  the  Civil  War  mingled 
thoughts  of  the  past.  This  city,  thoroughly  battle-scarred,  was 
a  favorite  place  with  Washington,  and  to  this  day  are  pointed 
out  situations  permanently  linked  with  his  name.  Every  acre 
of  this  territory  had  been  hunted  over  by  brave  old  Dan  Mor 
gan  of  the  Virginia  line  in  the  Revolution,  and  since  1802  his 
body  has  been  lying  in  the  burial-ground  past  which  our  battle 
sweeps.  Our  fierce  division  now  is  to  bring  about  a  closer 
union  in  the  years  to  come. 

The  effect  of  this  fight  was  far  reaching.  It  not  only  made 
Sheridan  the  idol  of  his  immediate  followers,  but  it  convinced 


154 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


the  North  that  there  was  a  true  leader  in  the  valley.  However 
closely  Grant  was  holding  the  rebel  lines  in  front  of  Peters 
burg,  and  however  many  engagements  had  been  fought  from 
the  Rapidan  southward,  it  must  be  allowed  that  the  best  any 
one  could  say  of  them  was  that  they  were  drawn  battles.  The 
country  had  become  anxious  for  an  unqualified  victory — one 
in  which  a  large  array  of  prisoners  and  captured  guns  and 
standards  should  tell  of  actual  defeat;  and  here  they  got  it, 
for  five  cannon,  fifteen  flags  and  2,000  prisoners  attested  the 
success  of  the  day.  A  hot  presidential  contest  was  in  progress, 
and  this  victory  was  worth  whole  tons  of  campaign  literature 
to  the  side  that  was  supporting  Abraham  Lincoln. 

How  it  struck  the  Confederates  themselves  appears  in  the 
following  wail  taken  from  the  diary  of  a  wounded  prisoner, 
confined  in  Winchester:  "I  never  saw  troops  in  such  confusion 
before.  Night  found  Sheridan's  hosts  in  full  and  exultant 
possession  of  much-abused,  beloved  Winchester.  The  hotel  hos 
pital  was  pretty  full  of  desperately  wounded  and  dying  Confed 
erates.  The  entire  building  was  shrouded  in  darkness  during 
the  dreadful  night.  Sleep  was  impossible,  as  the  groans,  sighs, 
shrieks,  prayers  and  oaths  of  the  wretched  sufferers,  combined 
with  my  own  severe  pain,  banished  all  thoughts  of  rest.  .  .  . 
Our  scattered  troops,  closely  followed  by  the  large  array  of 
pursuers,  retreated  rapidly  and  in  disorder  through  the  city. 
It  was  a  sad,  humiliating  sight." 


FORD  OF  THE   OPEQUON. 


THE  VALLEY  AND  WINCHESTER.  155 

During  the  remaining  months  of  the  war,  the  Confederates 
never  saw  the  lower  valley  in  force  again.  They  were  confined, 
closer  and  closer,  to  the  ways  leading  to  Kichmond.  Moseby 
and  his  men  still  harried  both  friend  and  foe,  but  no  organized 
front  was  again  presented  north  of  Middletown. 

An  early  start  is  made  on  the  20th,  and  the  rebels  are  fol 
lowed  swiftly  through  the  valley  towns  to  the  hill  just  south  of 
Strasburg.  So  rapid  is  the  pace  that  men  fall  out,  orders  to 
the  contrary  notwithstanding.  Some  companies  of  the  regi 
ment  are  almost  nil  when  in  the  afternoon  we  go  into  camp. 
The  3d  Division  is  in  the  advance,  so  near  to  the  rebel  signal- 
station  on  Three-top  mountain  that  though  out  of  range  of 
ball  or  bullet,  the  enemy  can  easily  see  our  every  movement, 
count  our  numbers  and  almost  describe  our  rations.  Having 
every  advantage  of  position,  that  Sheridan  on  the  22d  was  able 
to  dislodge  him  was  all  the  more  creditable  to  general  and  sol 
diers.  The  next  day  the  regiment  falls  back  to  Sheridan's 
headquarters  and  the  hospital.  During  the  day,  many  men 
slightly  wounded  or  unarmed  come  up.  Lieutenant  Freeoff 
writes  September  21st:  "We  are  lying  in  this  cursed  gap 
(Fisher's).  The  rebels  are  in  it  also,  and  if  an  attack  is  made 
it  will  be  an  awful  fight.  There  are  two  high  hills  and  only  a 
road  ten  feet  wide  between  to  go  through.  The  rebels,  I  hear, 
have  never  been  beaten  at  this  place.  Some  of  the  prisoners 
say  they  are  glad  they  are  with  us."  Congratulations  from 
Washington  and  Petersburg  were  read  before  every  company 
for  the  Winchester  victory. 

The  22d  is  the  day  of  Fisher's  hill,  and  the  rebels  are  driven 
out  by  the  3d  Division  of  the  6th  Corps,  combined  with  the 
same  flank  movement  so  brilliantly  worked  at  Winchester. 
Again  it  is  Crook's  men  who  scale  nominally  inaccessible  steeps, 
and  falling  on  Early's  rear  compel  him  to  retreat  in  the  direst 
confusion,  but  in  this  day's  glory  the  Ninth  had  no  part,  for 
we  were  consigned  to  the  useful  yet  inglorious  duty  of  guard 
ing  the  hospital,  which,  however  well  done,  brings  no  laurels. 
Our  surgeons,  Chamberlain  and  Brandt,  labor  at  the  amputa 
tion-tables  for  thirty-six  hours.  The  victory  seemed  to  supple 
ment  that  of  the  19th,  if  anything  were  lacking  on  that  day. 
Though  not  in  the  fight,  our  major  was  on  the  alert,  for  it  was 
on  the  22d  that  he  rode  into  camp  and  ordered  a  corporal  and 
guard  to  go  out  and  arrest  a  rebel  whom  he  had  found  wander- 


156  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

ing  in  the  woods.  The  rebel  proved  to  be  our  brigade  butcher. 
The  major  must  have  had  an  expensive  settlement  with  his 
brother  officers  over  this  incident.  Companies  B  and  H  serve 
as  rear  guard.  The  23d  still  in  the  vicinity  of  Strasburg.  Sup 
ply-train  arrives;  on  the  24th  pass  through  Strasburg  and  en 
camp  south  of  Woodstock.  The  25th  continue  the  march  south 
ward,  and  we  again  pass  through  Edinburg,  Hawkinsville, 
Mount  Jackson  and  New  Market,  camping  on  the  farm  of  Mr. 
Williamson,  a  rebel  major,  from  whom  his  Confederate  friends 
had  taken  800  bushels  of  wheat.  Still  to  the  southward.  On 
the  26th  seventeen  miles  to  Harrisonburg,  where  on  a  hill  to 
the  east  of  the  village  we  camp.  Here  also  is  the  hospital  tent. 
We  are  now  just  100  miles  from  Harper's  Ferry,  whence  we 
started  one  week  ago.  In  camp  during  two  following  days, 
and  the  region  being  new  to  us,  an  unusual  store  of  provisions 
is  brought  in.  The  boys  steal  the  most  unreasonable  things. 
Even  colts  are  taken,  though  we  are  by  no  means  hippophagi, 
or  horse  eaters.  The  29th  takes  us  to  Mount  Crawford.  Eight 
miles  further  to  the  south  and  we  fairly  revel  in  the  good  things 
of  the  land,  though  the  inhabitants  must  have  correspondingly 
suffered.  Mills  and  houses  are  ransacked  for  flour;  salt  and 
fresh  pork  are  found,  and  as  proper  judges  we  pronounce  the 
land  excellent.  In  the  Vermont  brigade  was  a  practical  miller, 
Major  Safford,  who  ground  out  a  full  day's  ration  for  his  entire 
division.  The  last  day  of  September  sees  us  falling  back  to 
Harrisonburg.  As  the  farmers  raise  a  little  sugar-cane,  the 
boys  get  some  syrup,  but  it  is  poor  stuff;  also  the  cider  ob 
tained  here  is  not  up  to  the  Wayne  and  Cayuga  standard. 
Wheat  has  been  sown  in  some  places  and  cultivated  in.  We 
remain  here  four  days,  with  little  to  vary  the  monotony.  Sun 
day  payroll  is  signed.  Monday,  the  3d,  get  ready  to  march  at 
daylight,  but  directing  powers  thought  otherwise,  and  we  re 
main  in  camp.  What  will  not  these  inquisitive  Yankees  find? 
They  even  secure  a  quantity  of  maple-sugar.  The  day  is  spe 
cially  noteworthy  in  that  the  3d  Battalion  moves  up  and  once 
more  forms  a  part  of  the  Ninth. 

It  was  May  31st  that  the  regiment  was  separated,  and  though 
still  a  large  body  of  men,  the  9th  Heavy  Artillery  is  much 
smaller  than  when  we  took  transports  at  Alexandria  for  Belle 
Plain.  Men  and  officers  have  changed  much,  not  only  in  expe 
rience,  but  in  personnel  as  well.  Colonel  Welling  is  now  a 


THIRD  BATTALION,  PETERSBURG  TO  HARRISONBURG.    157 

lawyer  in  Lyons.  Colonel  Seward  with  a  star  upon  his  shoulder 
is  in  command  in  Martinsburg.  Colonel  Taft  on  account  of  his 
wound  is  not  with  us,  and  since  Monocacy  Major  Burgess  has 
directed  us;  now  he  yields  to  Lieutenant  Colonel  Snyder,  or 
would  do  so  were  the  latter  not  absent  on  leave. 


CHAPTER     XVII. 

THE  3D  BATTALION  FROM  PETERSBURG  TO  HARRISONBURG. 

In  Chapter  XIII  at  its  close,  the  3d  Battalion,  including  Com 
panies  F,  G,  I  and  L,  had  gone  aboard  the  transport  Thomas 
Powell,  and  on  the  9th  of  July,  while  the  other  eight  companies 
were  fighting  at  Monocacy,  these  our  comrades  were  having  an 
excursion  down  the  James  quite  as  delightful  as  that  which 
we  had  taken  a  few  days  before.  Fortress  Monroe  is  reached 
at  3  P.  M.,  and  a  stop  of  two  hours  is  made  for  coal.  Thence 
moving  seaward  they  reach  the  mouth  of  the  Potomac  at  1  A. 
M.,  where  the  anchor  is  thrown  out  waiting  for  the  high  tide, 
and  at  4  o'clock  the  steamer  starts  on  its  way  to  the  Capital. 
En  route  the  men  note  Mount  Vernon  and  Fort  Washington, 
and  at  Fort  Foote,  which  Company  G  had  helped  to  build,  the 
boat  was  greeted  with  hearty  cheers.  The  dock  was  reached 
at  noon,  and  dinner  was  served  at  Soldiers'  Eest.  A  halt  was 
had  here  till  4  P.  Mv  when  the  line  of  march  was  taken  up 
through  Washington  and  Georgetown  to  Forts  Keno,  Simmons, 
Kearney  and  intermediate  batteries.  One  who  was  in  this 
march  says,  "The  men  cried,  'Boys,  we  are  glad  to  see  you;' 
women  cried  for  joy  at  the  sight  of  these  dusty  soldiers;  girls 
brought  water,  ice  and  milk;  pies  and  cookies  were  offered; 
nothing  was  too  good  for  the  soldiers." 

These  men  are  now  back  in  familiar  scenes,  and  are  ready  to 
defend  forts  which  they  had  helped  to  erect.  It  is  evident  that 
the  enemy  is  nearing,  and  the  utmost  vigilance  is  maintained, 
the  soldiers  lying  by  their  guns  throughout  the  night.  The 
llth  of  July  is  ushered  in  with  activity  in  front,  picket-firing 
and  skirmishing.  The  enemy  burns  a  bridge  on  the  Baltimore 
&  Ohio  railroad  and  sets  several  houses  on  fire.  Some  firing 
from  our  forts. 


158  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Evidently  the  companies  were  distributed  in  squads.  Anthony 
Stacy  says:  "Company  L  went  to  Simmons  first,  then  to  Reno, 
but  thirty  men  had  to  return  to  Simmons  at  once,  because  the 
men  who  relieved  them  were  not  armed.  Some  of  L  were  also 
in  Forts  De  Russey  and  Kearney;  Company  F  went  directly 
to  Reno,  later  was  in  Fort  Bayard,  where  it  remained  for  sev 
eral  weeks,  finally  to  Fort  Thayer,  near  Bladensburg.  Com 
pany  I  was  in  Sumner  and  then  in  Reno.  Lieutenant  Yard  gives 
prices  of  food  for  officers  at  Tennallytown :  cheese,  50  cents  per 
pound;  butter,,  60;  sugar,  16J;  tea,  90;  ham,  16J.  July  31st 
thirty  'I'  men  went  to  Battery  Rossell,  eighty  rods  from  Reno." 

The  12th  saw  what  fighting  there  was  in  defense  of  Wash 
ington.  As  the  most  of  the  work  was  done  in  or  in  front  of 
Fort  Stevens,  there  is  not  so  very  much  to  relate  as  to  the 
part  borne  by  the  Ninth.  Our  men,  however,  were  there  ready 
to  work  the  guns  which  they  had  assisted  in  planting  and  with 
whose  use  they  were  fully  acquainted.  All  obstructions  in 
front  of  the  forts  in  the  shape  of  buildings  are  removed  lest 
they  may  afford  cover  for  the  foe. 

The  opportune  arrival  of  the  1st  and  2d  Divisions  of  the 
6th  Corps  with  our  own  2d  Battalion  had  done  the  business 
for  Early,  and  he  withdrew  his  forces  at  the  close  of  the  day, 
though  extreme  vigilance  was  maintained  for  several  days, 
scarcely  abating  till  the  17th.  During  the  investment,  if  such 
it  could  be  called,  Company  L  was  partly  in  Fort  Kearney,  and 
its  100-pound  Parrott  was  used  to  good  purpose;  Companies 
F  and  G  were  in  Reno;  I,  in  Simmons.  On  the  13th  Colonel 
Seward,  who  was  disabled  at  Monocacy,  visits  the  battalion. 
The  19th  Army  Corps  passes  on  the  14th  with  a  wagon-train, 
evidently  in  pursuit  of  Early.  The  15th  brings  the  welcome 
sight  of  the  Ninth  or  the  other  two  battalions,  having  come  up 
by  way  of  Baltimore  and  Washington.  They  are  at  Tennally 
town.  President  Lincoln  visits  the  regiment.  Stragglers 
from  Monocacy  continue  to  make  their  appearance  for  several 
days.  On  the  29th  stringent  orders  are  issued  concerning  steal 
ing  from  the  inhabitants,  and  leaving  camp;  while  vigorous 
and  extended  drill  is  ordered.  The  23d  brings  back  the  6th 
Corps,  including  the  1st  and  2d  Battalions  of  the  Ninth,  from 
the  trip  through  Snicker's  gap.  Everyone  in  the  regiment 
wonders  whether  the  two  divisions  will  be  reunited.  The 
picket-line  is  fully  five  miles  from  the  forts,  and  our  companies 


THIRD    BATTALION,    PETERSBURG   TO    HARRISONBURG.          159 

have  to  take  their  regular  turns,  though  the  fresh  food  obtained 
from  the  adjacent  farms  made  the  duty  somewhat  pleasurable. 

On  the  26th  the  companies  reported  at  Fort  Reno,  having  been 
relieved  by  100-day  men,  and  evidently  were  again  to  take  their 
place  with  the  regiment,  marching  out  some  ways  north  of 
Tennallytown  and  encamping.  The  27th  the  3d  Battalion 
started  towards  Rockville,  but  before  reaching  it  was  overtaken 
by  orders  to  return  to  its  former  stations,  the  march  being  ap 
parently  the  result  of  an  error.  As  the  men  countermarch,  they 
meet  the  other  eight  companies  on  their  way  to  and  through 
Rockville  at  the  beginning  of  their  long  and  exacting  march. 
The  following  weeks  in  the  defenses  are  not  eventful.  There 
is  a  regular  round  of  picket-duty,  inspection,  parade  and  drill. 
Now  and  then  deserters  from  the  rebel  ranks  come  in,  and  es 
caping  conscripts  are  taken  in.  August  1st  brought  an  alarm 
of  rebel  approach,  which  sent  the  men  into  the  forts  and  to 
their  guns  for  several  following  days. 

This  life  in  the  forts  gives  martinets  excellent  opportunity 
to  display  shining  brasses  and  white  gloves.  What  would  some 
of  the  Washington  military  visitors  have  said  had  they  known 
how  they  were  sized  up  by  officers  and  men  who  kept  diaries? 

Here  is  one  entry:  "Visited  by  General  W ,  an  upstart  and 

a  blockhead,"  yet  very  likely  this  embryonic  Caesar  went  away 
thinking  he  had  left  an  ineffaceable  impression.  Well,  it  was 
lasting,  but  not  just  what  he  intended. 

August  17th  Company  L  being  relieved  by  the  6th  New  York 
Heavy  Artillery,  Colonel  Kitching,  went  to  Fort  Simmons,  and 
the  boys  feel  quite  at  home.  On  the  same  day,  G  Company  goes 
over  to  Fort  Mansfield.  August  23d  Colonel  Seward  comes 
out  from  Washington  and  is  anxious  to  have  the  regiment 
united.  Of  this  evident  desire,  one  officer  makes  the  record: 
"Apparently  the  colonel  would  rather  have  us  together  in  h — 1 
than  separated  in  heaven."  Whatever  his  wishes  he  was  never 
to  see  the  men  together  again,  for  before  the  review  came,  he 
had  laid  off  his  eagle  and  "hitched  his  wagon  to  a  star,"  and 
the  Ninth  was  under  another  commander.  Sunday,  the  28th,  the 
chaplain  announced  church,  but  only  three  or  four  attended — 
very  unappreciative. 

As  an  illustration  of  how  Dame  Rumor  changes  facts,  a  jour 
nal-keeper  on  the  26th  records  a  smart  cavalry  skirmish  near 
Fort  Sumner.  It  really  was  had  at  Annandale  on  the  Fairfax 


160  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Court  House  road,  west  of  Alexandria  on  the  24th,  between  the 
16th  New  York  Cavalry  and  Moseby's  men,  the  latter  returning 
unsuccessful.  On  the  last  day  of  the  month  Major  Snyder  in 
spects  the  6th  Heavy,  and  Colonel  Kitching  performs  a  like 
duty  for  the  Ninth,  and  takes  occasion  to  compliment  the  men. 

There  is  no  record  of  what  Colonel  S said  to  the  6th,  but 

it  is  reasonable  to  think  that  he  made  a  fair  turn-about. 

September  finds  the  company  still  doing  garrison  duty, 
though  the  air  is  laden  with  rumors  of  departure,  and  ere  the 
real  start  is  made  some  moving  about  among  the  forts  inter 
venes.  On  the  second  day  Major  Henry  Roessle  of  the  15th 
New  York  Cavalry,  who  had  been  captain  of  Company  E,  rode 
through  and  received  the  greetings  of  old  acquaintances.  Ap 
parently  there  is  nothing  happening  of  more  moment  than  the 
occasional  catching  of  a  sentinel  asleep  on  his  post,  and  the 
riots  incident  to  the  absorption  of  too  much  corn-juice.  The 
16th  Major  Snyder  starts  for  home  on  a  furlough.  Companies 
G  and  L  are  ordered  to  Forts  Mansfield  and  Reno,  and  I  to 
Battery  Vermont,  about  one  mile  from  Fort  Sumner.  The 
204th  Pennsylvania  Volunteers  relieve  Company  L  at  Fort  Sim 
mons,  and  the  company  declares  the  bed-bugs  at  Reno  "the 
largest,  fiercest  and  most  numerous  yet  encountered."  The  5th 
Pennsylvania  Light  Artillery  relieves  G  at  Fort  Mansfield.  On 
the  18th  I  Company  proceeded  to  Fort  Lincoln,  twelve  miles 
away,  just  east  of  the  Bladensburg  pike,  near  the  Eastern 
Branch,  and  only  three  miles  from  Washington.  Company  F 
goes  to  Fort  Thayer  in  the  same  range.  On  the  18th,  Company 
G  marched  to  Fort  Bunker  Hill,  recalling  the  early  days  of 
1862.  Company  L  marched  the  same  day  to  Fort  Totten,  just 
a  little  to  the  northwest.  The  location  and  view  are  admira 
ble.  The  U.  S.  Military  Asylum  is  only  a  short  distance  away, 
and  is  visited  by  many. 

Though  there  is  every  indication  of  an  early  departure, 
measurements  are  made  for  targets,  just  as  though  all  were  to 
remain  here  the  rest  of  the  season.  Soon  after  midnight  of  the 
23d  of  September  came  the  orders  that  were  to  send  the  four 
companies  to  join  their  fellows  in  the  valley.  With  three  days' 
cooked  rations,  all  the  men  are  off  before  daylight  for  Wash 
ington,  which  they  reach  at  7  A.  M.  Breakfast  is  had  at  Sol 
diers'  Rest,  and  during  the  forenoon  cars  are  taken  on  the 
Baltimore  &  Ohio  railroad  station  for  Harper's  Ferry.  Prog- 


THIRD  BATTALION,  PETERSBURG  TO  HARRISONBURG.    161 

ress  is  slow,  for  it  is  not  till  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  that 
the  Kelay  House  is  reached.  (The  writer  recalls  that  in  war 
times  he  once  jumped  off  a  moving  train  on  this  section,  and 
back  again,  to  prove  that  he  could  run  faster  than  the  train 
was  going.) 

Monocacy  Junction  is  seen  at  sunset,  and  night  has  settled 
down  when  the  Ferry  appears.  It  is  on  record  that  the  train 
stopped  so  suddenly  here  that  several  men  of  Company  I,  riding 
on  top  of  a  car,  were  tumbled  off  into  the  canal  by  whose  side 
the  halt  was  made.  Luckily  no  serious  injury  was  suffered, 
wherein  they  were  more  fortunate  than  a  certain  Massachu 
setts  regiment,  which  had  several  men  drowned  in  this  same 
place  and  manner.  Marching  across  the  Potomac,  a  bivouac 
is  made  on  Bolivar  Heights.  From  the  24th  to  the  27th  the 
men  lie  here  while  final  preparations  are  made  for  their  depar 
ture.  They  do  not  know  the  scoldings  received  by  their  officers 
from  still  higher  ones  because  this  or  that  was  not  done.  It 
is  all  the  same  in  military — leave  out  the  bickerings  and  fault 
findings,  and  there  would  be  a  remarkable  shrinkage  in  records. 

While  here  on  Sunday  a  raw  German  regiment  with  bright 
new  uniforms  camped  beside  us.  A  cake-peddler  came  to  camp 
and  stopped  between  the  two  commands  to  sell  his  goods.  Some 
mischievous  scamp  upset  his  wagon,  and  cakes  covered  the 
ground  and  rolled  about  in  profusion.  A  general  stampede 
for  a  supply  of  cakes  was  inaugurated,  and  soon  every  man  in 
sight,  Dutchman  and  Yankee,  was  crunching  cakes.  Shortly 
after  the  catastrophe  happened,  a  report  was  circulated  through 
our  camp  that  the  Dutchmen  had  two  of  our  men  bucked  arid 
gagged  in  punishment  for  tipping  over  the  peddler's  vehicle. 
This  created  great  indignation  among  our  men,  and  a  howl 
went  up  for  dire  vengeance  on  the  "fresh  fish"  for  their  audac 
ity.  Our  commander,  Major  William  Wood,  and  some  line- 
officers  repaired  to  the  guard-house  of  the  Germans,  and  found 
the  report  too  true.  A  peremptory  demand  was  made  for  our 
men,  followed  with  a  threat  of  summary  punishment  if  not  com 
plied  with  in  twenty  minutes. 

The  German  officers  began  to  get  scared;  they  gathered  in  a 
bunch  near  their  guard-house  and  jabbered  and  gesticulated 
in  Dutch  and  watched  our  men  "falling  in."  Soon  their  colonel 
sent  over  and  asked  for  an  armistice;  this  request  was  indig 
nantly  spurned.  The  twenty  minutes'  time  allowed  was  about 
11 


162  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

up,  the  officers  were  taking  their  places  presumably  to  do  some 
thing  awful  when  a  shout  went  up,  and  the  imprisoned  cake 
fiends  came  walking  over  to  our  camp.  So  much  for  bluff! 

Some  of  the  men  find  old  acquaintances  in  the  184th  New 
York,  a  battalion  of  which  is  encamped  near.  Harper's  Ferry 
is  visited.  The  scenes  of  John  Brown's  raid  are  inspected,  and 
Sheridan's  captured  cannon  from  the  valley  admired. 

The  starting  on  the  27th  is  slow,  going  just  about  one  mile 
before  dinner  to  the  westward  and  then  wait  awhile;  later  we 
take  up  the  line  of  march,  passing  through  Charlestown  at  5 
P.  M.,  of  course  realizing  all  the  John  Brown  memories  that  the 
place  was  sure  to  excite.  The  march  of  the  28th  is  a  long  and 
hard  one,  with  the  added  duty  of  guarding  a  wagon-train,  liable 
at  any  moment  to  prove  a  serious  affair,  for  Moseby  and  his 
men  came  and  went  like  the  wind.  The  start  is  made  at  sun 
rise,  and  the  route  is  to  the  west  and  south  through  Smithfield 
and  Bunker  Hill  to  Winchester,  and  camp  is  made  late  in  the 
afternoon  south  of  the  city  and  twenty-two  miles  from  the 
starting-place.  The  next  day  the  march  is  resumed  at  sunrise 
and  extends  through  the  valley  villages  of  Newtown,  Middle- 
town  and  Strasburg,  five  miles  beyond  which  a  camping-place 
is  found.  It  was  a  long  and  tedious  trip,  passing  en  route  the 
battlefield  of  Fisher's  hill,  where  on  the  22d  Sheridan  had 
beaten  Early.  The  day's  jaunt  covered  nearly  or  quite  twenty- 
five  miles.  Mount  Jackson  is  fully  twenty  miles  away,  and  the 
companies  move  at  daylight  September  30th.  Many  burned 
railroad  bridges  are  passed,  and  all  note  the  absence  of  able- 
bodied  men  in  the  places  threaded — only  children,  aged  men, 
and  women  of  all  ages,  the  latter  sour  in  visage  and  saucy  in 
spirit.  Thus  Woodstock  and  Edinburg  are  seen,  only  brief  halts 
being  made  on  the  forced  march.  Nightfall  finds  a  camping- 
place  west  of  Mount  Jackson.  The  men  begin  to  realize  the 
possibilities  of  a  trip  through  an  enemy's  country,  and  regale 
themselves  on  the  few  chickens  left  by  those  who  had  preceded 
them. 

October  signalized  its  advent  by  a  hard,  cold  rain,  but  it  did 
not  prevent  the  march,  which,  beginning  at  8  A.  M.,  continued 
through  the  mud  and  wet  till  9  P.  M.,  terminating  near  Harri- 
sonburg.  New  Market  is  passed,  where  in  the  preceding  May, 
15th  day,  the  rebels  under  Breckinridge  had  beaten  Sigel,  driv 
ing  him  and  his  men  back  to  Strasburg,  resulting  in  his  super- 


MAJOR  GENERAL  H.  G.  WRIGHT. 
BREV'T  MAJ.  GENERAL  JAMES  B.  RICKETTS.     BREV'T  MAJ.  GENERAL  J.  WARREN  KEIFER. 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  163 

sedure  by  Hunter.  The  country  seems  all  aflame,  for  Sheridan 
is  carrying  out  his  orders  to  make  the  valley  less  desirable  for 
Eichmond  raids.  Forage  of  all  descriptions,  grain  and  barns 
are  destroyed  and  stock  is  driven  off.  It  is  a  melancholy  sight; 
but  it  is  war.  Boast  pig,  not  cooked  according  to  Charles 
Lamb's  formula,  but  nevertheless  exceedingly  palatable,  tick 
les  the  taste  of  some  of  the  boys,  on  the  day's  march.  It  is  said 
that  Sheridan's  headquarters  are  only  two  miles  away.  While 
there  is  an  abundance  of  water  in  the  air,  there  is  very  little 
to  be  had  for  drinking  purposes.  The  2d  is  Sunday,  and  a 
needed  rest  is  had  in  camp,  the  only  drawback  a  lack  of  water. 
Food  is  abundant,  both  in  the  way  of  rations  and  from  local 
sources.  The  senior  captain  in  the  battalion  buys  an  eight- 
dollar  horse;  doubtless  he  had  a  premonition  of  his  approach 
ing  promotion,  and  he  wanted  to  be  ready.  Some  of  the  boys 
from  the  other  companies  of  the  Ninth  make  friendly  calls. 
The  3d  day  of  October  ends  the  separate  career  of  the  3d  Bat 
talion,  for  on  this  day  it  moves  up  and  reports  to  Major  Bur 
gess,  in  command  of  the  other  two.  In  the  morning  a  portion 
of  the  battalion,  225  men,  was  set  to  guard  certain  prisoners, 
while  the  remainder,  453  men  with  eleven  officers,  reported  to 
the  regiment.  For  several  months  the  twelve  companies  will 
march,  bivouac,  fight,  suffer  and  rejoice  together. 


CHAPTER     XVIII. 

THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK. 

"There  is  perhaps  no  fairer  land  beneath  the  sun  than 
that  section  of  Virginia  called  the  Great  Valley." 

D.  H.  Strother,  "Porte  Crayon." 

Himself  a  native  of  Martinsburg,  which  might  be  called  the 
extreme  northern  end  of  the  valley,  he  may  be  said  to  have  had 
the  hallowed  associations  of  childhood  to  bias  his  judgment,  but 
those  not  to  the  manor  born  have  fully  agreed  in  his  opinion. 
Visitors  from  all  parts  of  the  world  have  unconsciously  ex 
pressed  the  same  sentiment.  It  is  all  the  more  pleasurable  in 
quoting  the  words  of  General  Strother  to  note  that  he  served 
in  the  Union  army  throughout  the  war. 


164  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Of  the  thousands  who  followed  "Phil"  Sheridan  up  and  down 
the  valley,  there  were  very  few  who  failed  to  note  its  sur 
passing  beauty.  While  blistered  feet  and  empty  stomachs  are 
not  conducive  to  aesthetic  observations,  even  these  could  not 
restrain  the  eye  as  it  rested  on  wooded  peak,  sinuous  river  and 
fertile  fields.  Everywhere  nature  had  spread  her  gifts  with 
lavish  hands,  and  passing  events  were  to  give  to  these  ways 
and  hills  and  acres  a  gloss  like  that  which  gilds  the  noted  spots 
of  the  Eastern  world. 

These  soldiers  in  blue  and  gray  were  shuttles  in  a  mighty 
loom,  whose  beams  and  posts  were  the  roads  and  hills  of  this 
fair  land;  the  woof,  the  principles  for  which  they  fought,  and 
as  they  alternately  shot  back  and  forth  the  fabric  of  history 
grew,  woven  of  successive  threads  of  varying  hue  mingled  with 
crimson  red,  their  own  life's  blood,  till  the  mighty  web  seemed 
a  veritable  tapestry  on  which  we  might  read  deeds  of  valor, 
tales  of  endurance  and  suffering  and  love  of  native  land  alike 
creditable  to  all.  The  pictures  anon  seem  to  breathe,  and  we 
see  starting  into  action  the  brave  men  who  here  gave  them 
selves  to  this  national  texture.  Eussell  and  Kodes,  Lowell  and 
Ramseur,  with  the  thousands  of  lesser  rank  who  unshrinkingly 
offered  themselves  to  adorn  its  surface — all  these  are  seen  by 
every  eye  that  glances  over  the  mighty  work  which  they  ac 
complished,  and  posterity,  generations  yet  unborn,  shall  see 
in  the  product  of  their  labors  that  for  which  they  gave  their 
lives,  liberty  for  all.  Those  who  died  from  Winchester  to 
Staunton  died  not  in  vain.  They  live,  and  must  forever  live. 

It  is  probable  that  living  upon  the  enemy  never  had  a  more 
thorough  illustration  than  on  the  part  of  our  boys  in  their 
valley  experience.  What  they  could  not  tell  of  foraging  and 
"drawing"  supplies,  would  not  be  worth  telling.  While  Sher 
man's  "Bummers"  may  have  done  a  larger  business,  they  did 
not  have  such  a  variety  of  resources,  nor  so  rich  a  base  of 
operations.  Notwithstanding  the  almost  ceaseless  activity  of  the 
army,  the  men  found  time  to  inspect  every  nook  and  cranny 
of  the  country.  They  devised  or  appropriated  cooking  utensils 
till  they  were  ready  to  prepare  any  dish  from  fried  pork  to  a 
plum  pudding.  They  developed  culinary  talent  that  would  have 
astonished  the  women  at  home.  It  would  seem  that  aside  from 
the  duty  of  fighting  and  chasing  rebels,  they  became  little  bet 
ter  than  organized  stomachs.  One  veteran,  who  kept  his  diary 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  165 

through  the  entire  enlistment,  says:  "As  I  read  over  these 
words  written  so  long  ago,  I  almost  blush  at  the  reflection 
that  I  recorded  little  else  than  what  I  had  to  eat."  After  all, 
has  not  General  Sherman  said,  "An  army  moves  on  its  belly"? 
The  harder  and  fiercer  the  strife,  the  nearer  man  reverts  to 
that  early  period  in  his  history  when,  with  his  fellow  animals, 
he  struggled  for  mere  existence.  The  culture  of  ages  disap 
pears,  mind  yields  to  matter,  the  body  asserts  itself,  and  that 
upon  which  it  may  subsist  is  the  prime  consideration. 

Rations*  as  furnished  by  the  government  were  well  enough 
to  fall  back  upon  under  pressure,  but  for  daily  consumption 
the  country  itself  afforded  what  the  soldiers  liked  far  better. 
In  taking  these  items  there  was  little  question  of  the  suffering 
that  might  be  caused  by  such  an  appropriation,  yet  these  men 
had  helpless  families  at  home;  in  many  cases  they  were  pro 
fessed  Christians;  but  war,  cruel,  relentless  war,  transforms 
those  who  engage  in  it.  Hungry  men  do  not  moralize. 

Behold  a  camp  scene!  The  fuel  used  is  in  many  cases  the 
farmers'  fences..  In  one  instance  the  hapless  possessor  said, 
"That  is  the  third  fence  destroyed  on  that  same  line  within 
the  last  three  months;  secesh  and  Union,  they  both  act  just 
the  same."  There  was  nothing  so  handy  for  placing  pots,  cups, 
spiders  and  kettles  as  a  pile  of  rails,  and  how  the  Virginia 
rail-fences  would  burn!  They  had  been  drying  for  generations 
for  just  this  purpose,  and  no  man  more  quickly  realizes  the 
eternal  fitness  of  things  than  the  soldier  in  active  warfare. 
From  our  first  entrance  of  this  happy  land,  fruit  and  vegetables 
have  been  at  their  best.  Green  corn  was  in  a  state  to  keep 
Indians'  feet  dancing,  and  all  the  stock  had  not  been  driven 
away.  From  the  mills  and  houses  raw  flour  was  secured,  fowls 
were  stolen,  and  chicken  potpie  was  by  no  means  a  rarity. 
Boiled  dinners,  including  the  orthodox  cabbage  and  salt  pork, 
were  frequent,  and  for  side  dishes  honey  and  preserves  were 
the  rule.  For  the  proper  preparation  of  such  dishes,  heavy 

*An  army  ration  as  issued  on  the  march  consisted  of  12  ounces 
of  pork  or  bacon,  or  1}  pounds  of  fresh  beef,  or  1  pound  6  ounces  of 
salt  beef;  1  pound  of  hard  bread.  Fifteen  pounds  of  beans  for  100 
rations,  8  pounds  of  roasted  coffee,  or  2  pounds  of  tea,  for  100  rations; 
15  pounds  of  sugar  and  4  pounds  of  soap  for  100  rations.  Beef  was 
driven  on  foot.  In  camp  near  supplies,  flour  or  soft  bread  was 
issued  in  place  of  hard-tack  when  asked  for,  and  rice  in  place  of  beans, 
and  vinegar,  pepper  and  desiccated  vegetables  in  addition. 


166  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

kettles  were  carried  in  addition  to  the  regular  warlike  accou 
trements,  the  members  of  a  mess  by  pairs  taking  turns  in 
transporting.  Of  course  the  kettle  itself  was  at  first  stolen, 
and  not  infrequently  stolen  again  by  some  envious  mess  in 
another  portion  of  the  force.  It  was,  "Every  man  for  himself, 
and  the  d — 1  take  the  hindmost." 

Some  new  dishes  were  devised,  one  something  like  the  home 
succotash  without  the  beans;  corn  in  the  milk  cut  from  the  cob, 
cooked  in  water  or  milk,  and  stirred  until  thick;  then  corn  a 
little  older  would  be  rubbed  upon  a  grater  made  by  punching 
holes  in  a  stolen  milk-pan.  This  when  cooked  was  an  improve 
ment  on  samp,  or  coarse  Indian  meal.  The  valley  cows  sup 
plied  the  natural  accompaniment.  Eggs  were  cooked  in  every 
conceivable  way.  We  made  biscuits,  too,  but,  "How  could  you 
raise  them?"  says  some  careful  housewife;  easy  enough  for  an 
inventive  Yankee  who  knew  just  a  little  of  chemistry.  Wood 
ashes  boiled  for  a  while  supplied  the  potash  base  of  saleratus, 
and  a  few  drops  of  vinegar  did  the  acid  business,  at  home  done 
by  sour  milk,  and  a  covered  spider  was  oven  enough.  Had 
wives  at  home  only  known  the  talents  of  their  benedicts,  many 
would  have  demanded  a  culinary  vacation,  at  least  for  a  while 
when  the  war  was  over. 

"An  army  terrible  with  banners,"  was  not  to  be  mentioned 
with  the  6th  Corps  when  it  had  on  its  war  and  cooking  togs. 
Guns  and  ammunition  were  useful  on  occasion,  but  when  the 
real  necessaries  of  life  were  mentioned,  they  were  not  in  it  with 
the  blackened  coffee-cup  tied  to  the  haversack,  the  leaf  or  grass 
cleaned  skillet,  with  soot-covered  exterior,  suspended  from  the 
stalwart  back  forming  a  sort  of  rear  armor,  and  the  tenderly- 
watched  camp-kettle  borne  by  sometimes  wearied  hands.  If 
they  do  not  carry  Caesar  and  his  fortunes,  they  surely  bear 
that  which  has  to  do  with  the  meat  upon  which  Great  Caesar 
feeds. 

October  4th  still  in  camp,  with  conflagrations  in  every  direc 
tion  ;  much  family  history  is  disappearing  in  this  ruthless  way, 
but  war's  demands  are  heartless.  One  boy  records  that  he 
paid  f  15  in  Confederate  money  for  five  pounds  of  cheese.  It  is 
a  comforting  reflection  that  even  one  purchase  was  made. 
Owing  to  the  reunion  of  the  regiment,  a  rearrangement  of 
battalions  is  made,  and  Major  William  Wood  commands  the 
1st,  Captain  Hyde  the  2d,  and  Captain  A.  S.  WTood  the  3d. 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  167 

Colonel  Seward  has  become  a  brigadier  general,  with  head 
quarters  at  Martinsburg;  Lieutenant  Colonel  Taft,  promoted 
to  colonel,  is  unable  to  be  with  us  on  account  of  the  loss  of  a 
leg  at  Monocacy;  Major  Snyder,  now  lieutenant  colonel,  is 
away  on  furlough,  and  Major  Burgess  commands  the  regiment. 
Companies  G,  K,  I,  and  D  are  in  the  1st  Battalion.  We  are 
a  long  way  from  our  base  of  supplies.  Our  wagons,  not  numer 
ous  enough  for  our  needs,  are  attacked  in  every  train.  Guard 
ing  trains  is  no  sinecure. 

Nothing  can  be  found  of  the  enemy  in  front,  so  the  lost 
third  of  the  Ninth  comes  up  just  in  time  to  fall  back  with  us, 
for  on  the  6th  we  retire  twenty-two  miles  with  very  little  halt 
ing,  having  started  at  daylight,  and  camp  near  Mount  Jackson. 
The  air  is  filled  with  the  smoke  of  burning  property.  The  Ninth 
leading  the  3d  Division,  we  march  more  easily  than  those  be 
hind.  We  occupy  old  rebel  rifle-pits. 

It  was  on  this  day's  march  that  one  of  our  boys,  with  foot 
so  swollen  that  he  could  not  wear  a  boot,  had  fallen  out,  and 
wras  fully  an  hour  behind  the  regiment.  The  sun  was  an  hour 
high  when  the  sight  of  three  cows  aroused  an  appetite  for  milk. 
Though  far  behind  and  very  weary,  he  determined  to  have  milk 
for  supper.  Two  bossies  were  impervious  to  his  blandishments, 
but  the  third  yielded  and  a  full  cup  rewarded  his  efforts.  Sit 
ting  on  the  corner  of  a  rail-fence  with  crumbed  hardtack,  he 
played  he  was  a  boy  again.  Just  then  an  officer  rode  up,  say 
ing,  "What  in  h — 1  are  you  doing  there?  There  are  rebs  in 
those  woods,  and  you  will  be  gobbled  before  morning."  At 
this  announcement  a  lively  fusilade  from  the  woods  made  the 
rider  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  disappear.  "I  finished  my 
meal  in  peace;  never  had  bread  and  milk  tasted  so  good  before, 
and  strengthened  by  the  same  I  pushed  on,  unmolested  further 
by  the  Johnnies,  and  just  as  the  sun  passed  over  the  mountain, 
I  caught  up  with  my  comrades." 

The  next  day  we  continued  our  retrograde  movement,  though 
slowly,  through  Mount  Jackson  and  Woodstock,  camping  a 
little  north  of  the  town.  As  bridges  had  been  burned,  all 
streams  had  to  be  forded.  A  cloud  of  smoke  accompanies  us, 
betokening  ill  to  the  inhabitants.  The  hours  of  the  8th  see  us 
marching  back  to  Strasburg,  passing  Fisher's  hill,  and  camping 
on  flat  land  by  the  river-side,  where  we  meet  the  postmaster 
for  the  first  time  since  leaving  Harper's  Ferry. 


168  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Sunday,  the  9th,  is  spent  in  camp,  and  the  paymaster,  Major 
Ely,  makes  the  day  happy  for  some  of  the  companies.  On  this 
same  9th  there  is  fighting  back  of  us;  men,  wagons  and  guns 
are  captured.  It  was  a  short,  sharp  conflict  at  Tom's  brook 
between  our  cavalry  and  that  of  the  enemy  under  Rosser,  a 
new  leader,  who  instead  of  clearing  the  valley  of  our  forces 
lost  nearly  everything  that  he  had.  It  may  have  been  here 
that  coming  into  Early's  presence  with  laurel  leaves  upon  his 
hat,  the  older  officer  remarked,  "A  pumpkin-vine  would  be 
more  appropriate."  uHow  so,  General?"  said  Rosser.  "Because 
it's  so  d — d  good  at  running." 

The  morning  of  the  10th  reveals  the  first  frost  of  the  season, 
and  while  it  may  injure  corn,  it  will  surely  ripen  persimmons. 
March  near  middle  of  forenoon  north  to  Middletown,  thence 
deflected  to  the  southeast,  reaching  Front  Royal  in  the  after 
noon.  It  was  just  before  this  march  that  a  1st  sergeant  of  the 
Ninth  stole  two  very  fine  white  geese,  one  of  which  he  and  his 
friends  cooked  and  ate,  but  "forward"  orders  came  too  early 
to  secure  the  second  in  like  manner.  So  the  goose  became  a 
part  of  the  officer's  baggage  as  they  marched  away,  reposing 
upon  the  shoulders  soon  to  wrear  lieutenant's  straps.  For  once 
the  bird  was  too  heavy,  or  as  the  writer  expressed,  "He  was 
not  up  or  down  to  my  standard  of  leanness,  so  he  was  presented 
to  the  commander's  orderly,  who  carried  him  to  our  journey's 
end;  there  he  was  cooked  and  served,  and  I  came  in  for  a  good 
share  of  him,  though  not  in  a  perfectly  legitimate  way,  for  1 
did  not  dine  with  the  major."  Here  on  the  llth  more  compa 
nies  were  paid,  for  six  months,  the  first  money  received  since 
leaving  the  defenses,  and  the  most  of  it  was  sent  home.  Some 
of  the  men  were  ordered  out  to  drive  away  guerrillas  who  were 
prowling  about  the  camp,  but  being  well  mounted,  they  had 
little  difficulty  in  escaping.  Foraging  is  very  good,  and  life  is 
worth  living. 

October  12th  is  signalized  by  the  arrival  of  Lieutenant  Col 
onel  Snyder,  who  brought  numerous  commissions  with  him. 
Promotion  in  war-time  is  rapid.  Camp  is  moved  across  the 
small  creek  on  whose  banks  we  had  paused,  and  a  bridge  is 
built  in  the  rain  by  our  workmen.  The  next  day  we  march 
towards  Ashby's  gap,  the  rumor  being  that  we  are  going  to 
Alexandria,  but  the  orders  are  countermanded  on  reaching  the 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  169 

river,  so  we  countermarch  and  encamp  near  Millwood.*  An 
apple-orchard  near  by  renders  the  camp  all  the  more  pleasant, 
for  the  fruit  is  the  best  yet  sampled.  War  knows  neither  night 
Hor  day,  for  it  is  3  o'clock  A.  M.  of  the  14th  when  we  rouse, 
fall  in,  and  start  away  on  a  march,  striking  the  Winchester  pike 
at  Newtown  and  terminating  at  Cedar  creek,  where  we  form  in 
battle-line,  the  enemy  being  in  evidence;  but  as  nothing  comes 
of  it,  we  go  into  camp.  The  next  day  came  nearly  301)  recruits, 
who  were  distributed  through  the  several  companies.  Our 
camp  is  moved  a  short  distance  and  tents  are  pitched  regularly. 
The  enemy  can  be  seen  plainly  beyond  Fisher's  hill  cutting 
trees,  and  apparently  planting  batteries. 

The  16th  is  Sunday,  and  we  are  ordered  under  arms  between 
3  and  4  A.  M.,  as  an  attack  is  expected;  but  it  does  not  come. 
Sergeant  Devoe  of  Company  G,  who  later  became  our  chaplain, 
gave  us  a  sermon.  Monday  is  cool,  and  our  recruits  get  their 
first  drill.  Great  vigilance  is  had,  for  an  attack  is  imminent. 
Notwithstanding  the  danger,  the  regular  purveyors  go  out 
after  food,  and  return  with  the  proverbial  mutton.  Among  the 
seekers  were  some  of  the  new  recruits,  and  one,  only  a  lad, 
records  his  inability  to  hit  a  turkey;  says  they  started  at  9  A. 
M.  and  got  back  at  5  in  the  afternoon.  Thinks  they  must  have 
gone  ten  miles,  and  is  sure  that  they  took  everything  that  was 
out  of  doors  and  they  happened  to  want.  Wonders  how  the 
folks  in  York  state  would  like  such  usage.  The  18th  saw  a 
general  effort  to  secure  wood  for  fuel,  fence-rails  having  long 
since  disappeared;  battalion  drill  with  enemy  in  sight;  other 
wise  quiet. 

By  many  the  19th  of  October  is  considered  the  most  impor- 

*Since  the  war  we  have  learned  that  Sheridan  sent  the  6th  Corps  to 
Front  Royal  with  the  expectation  of  returning  us  to  Washington  by 
the  Manassas  Gap  railroad  then  being  repaired.  As,  however,  repairs 
had  ceased,  he  ordered  us  up  to  Ashby's  gap,  and  General  Wright's 
horse  was  in  the  Shenandoah  when  the  countermarching  order  was 
received.  The  enemy  had  reappeared  in  force  at  Fisher's  hill,  and 
therefrom  was  sending  out  attacking  parties,  evidently  under  the  im 
pression  that  the  main  army  was  much  smaller  than  it  was  before. 
Sixth  Corps  veterans  cannot  be  blamed  that  they  are  proud  over 
Sheridan's  conclusion  that  their  retention  was  necessary  to  the  success 
of  his  campaign,  though  their  return  meant  resumption  of  long 
marches,  and  the  horrors  as  well  as  glory  of  Cedar  Creek.  The  wis 
dom  of  this  reversal  of  our  movements  was  evident  when  Early  moved 
out  on  that  morning  walk  of  October  19th. 


170  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

tant  day  in  the  history  of  the  regiment,  for  within  its  hours 
was  fought  the  great  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek.*  On  the  15th,  in 
obedience  to  orders  from  Washington,  Sheridan  had  departed 
thither,  via  Front  Royal  and  Manassas  gap.  On  his  return  he 
reached  Winchester  between  3  and  4  P.  M.  on  the  18th,  and 
reports  from  the  front,  where  General  H.  G.  Wright  was  in 
command,  being  reassuring,  he  remained  there  over  night.  At 
6  the  next  morning,  he  was  roused  with  statements  that  heavy 
firing  was  heard  from  the  south,  but  it  was  not  till  nearly  9 
o'clock  that  he  mounted  Rienzi  and  started  armyward.  Even 
then  he  had  no  intimation  of  the  disaster  that  had  befallen 
his  forces. 

In  brief,  the  situation  on  the  banks  of  Cedar  creek,  this  Octo 
ber  morning,  was  as  follows:  Of  the  main  infantry,  General 
Crook  with  his  8th  Corps,  the  same  men  who  had  so  gallantly 
turned  the  rebel  left  flank  at  Winchester  and  Fisher's  hill, 
held  our  left  and  the  valley  pike  facing  east  and  south,  and 
having  intrenchments.  Then  towards  the  right,  came  the  19th 
Corps,  General  Emory,  facing  south  and  along  the  high  banks 
of  the  creek.  Here  also  were  earthworks,  the  corps  being  con 
siderably  further  to  the  north  than  the  8th. 

Again  towards  the  right  and  north,  almost  at  right  angles 
with  the  19th,  was  the  6th  Corps.  We  faced  the  stream  and 
looked  westward.  Of  this  corps,  the  2d  Division  held  the  right, 
the  1st  the  centre,  and  the  3d  the  left.  The  2d  Cavalry  flanked 
the  infantry,  with  Custer  on  the  right  of  the  6th  Corps,  and 
Powell,  formerly  AverilFs,  on  the  extreme  left,  our  lines  ex 
tending  thus  from  North  Mountain  to  the  vicinity  of  Front 
Royal.  Never  was  there  a  morning  better  fitted  for  Early's 
purposes  than  this.  The  air  reeked  with  moisture,  and  not  till 
9  o'clock  could  men  be  sure  of  where  they  were. 

His  plan  was  to  make  a  feint  upon  our  right,  and  to  attack 
in  force  the  left.  He  had  learned  from  his  sightly  signal-sta 
tion  on  Massanuttan  mountain  that  our  left  was  lightly  pick 
eted,  and  that  the  cavalry  force  was  small.  He  accordingly  de- 


*  Just  before  the  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek,  Early  declared  he  would  be 
in  Pennsylvania  on  election  day,  November  8th,  or  in  hell;  a  remark 
characteristic,  but  as  far  from  realization  as  Beauregard's  similar  one 
before  Shiloh,  viz.,  that  he  would  water  his  horse,  on  the  given  night, 
either  in  the  Mississippi  or  in  hell.  These  rebels  appeared  to  be  very 
ready  to  accept  hell  as  their  alternative  destination. 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK. 


171 


From  Chaplain  Haynes'  "10th  Vermont." 

CEDAR  CREEK  BATTLEFIELD. 


172  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

termined  to  move  a  column  between  the  base  of  the  mountain 
and  the  river  (the  north  fork  of  the  Shenandoah),  to  ford  the 
same,  and  then  to  fall  upon  our  left  and  rear.  The  plan  was 
that  of  Fisher's  hill,  in  reverse.  To  secure  the  utmost  quiet, 
swords  and  canteens  were  ordered  to  be  left  in  camp.  The 
rebel  infantry  to  make  this  attack  consisted  of  three  divisions 
of  the  2d  Corps,  viz.,  Gordon's,  Ramseur's  and  Pegram's,  all 
under  General  Gordon,  while  Early  himself  was  to  follow  with 
Kershaw's  and  Wharton's  divisions,  and  to  attack  as  soon  as 
Gordon  had  engaged,  the  latter  to  be  ready  to  assail  at  5  o'clock. 
Rosser  was  to  lead  his  cavalry  against  the  Union  right,  while 
Lomax  was  to  look  out  for  the  Federal  cavalry  towards  Front 
Eoyal.  Knowing  the  Belle  Grove  House  to  be  Sheridan's  head 
quarters,  that  was  made  the  objective  point,  with  the  hope  of 
capturing  the  Union  leaders.  In  effect,  Early  moved  up  quicker 
than  was  intended,  forded  Cedar  creek  at  Bowman's  mill,  and 
Kershaw  was  first  to  attack  promptly  at  5  o'clock.  Gordon, 
having  forded  the  Shenandoah,  was  soon  heard  from,  and  Ros 
ser  much  earlier  skirmished  as  ordered  on  the  Union  right. 

It  has  been  claimed  that  rebels  in  Union  clothing  relieved 
our  pickets.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  surprise  of  the  veterans  of 
the  8th  Corps  was  complete.  It- was  Thoburn's  division  that 
was  first  struck,  and  their  seven  cannon  were  at  once  turned 
against  them.  The  rout  continued  in  detail,  next  striking  the 
19th  Corps,  which  in  turn  gave  way,  and  no  settled  resistance 
was  made  till  the  6th  Corps  was  reached.  It  is  safe  to  state 
that  the  Army  of  the  Shenandoah  was  never  in  greater  con 
fusion.  It  was  just  at  dawn,  with  an  impenetrable  mist. 
Horses,  mules,  cows,  officers  and  men  fairly  confounded  con 
fusion,  and  to  crown  all,  however  ludicrous  some  of  the  scenes 
may  have  been,  death  was  putting  in  his  fiercest  work,  for 
rebel  shot,  shell  and  bullets  kept  coming  thicker  and  faster. 
As  General  Wright  was  in  command  of  the  army,  the  Gth  Corps 
was  under  General  Ricketts,  the  3d  Division  under  Colonel 
Keifer  and  our  2d  Brigade  followed  Colonel  Ball  of  the  122d 
Ohio.  As  General  Ricketts  was  wounded  early  in  the  fight,  he 
was  succeeded  by  General  Getty  of  the  2d  Division. 

The  mischief  of  the  early  morning  was  done  beyond  repair, 
and  no  gallantry  of  the  Gth  could  recall  the  fugitives,  but  as 
our  interest  centres  chiefly  in  our  own  brigade  or  regiment, 
it  is  well  to  let  Colonel  Ball  tell  his  own  story: 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  173 

The  troops  were  roused  at  dawn  of  day  by  musketry  at  our 
left.  Shortly  after  the  lines  were  formed,  the  command  of  the 
brigade  devolved  upon  myself,  in  consequence  of  changes  re 
sulting  from  the  absence  of  General  Sheridan.  The  brigade 
was  formed  in  two  lines — the  first  composed  of  the  9th  New 
York  Artillery,  138th  Pennsylvania,  and  a  portion  of  the  67th 
Pennsylvania;  the  second  embraced  the  6th  Maryland,  126th, 
122d  and  the  110th  Ohio;  the  regiments  occupied  positions 
from  right  to  left  as  named.  Before  sunrise  I  received  orders 
to  move  by  the  right  flank  toward  the  pike.  After  moving  a 
short  distance  in  that  direction,  orders  were  received  to  return 
to  the  position  from  which  we  had  just  moved,  and  to  await 
orders.  Shortly  afterward,  I  was  ordered  in  the  same  manner 
and  direction  as  before.  The  brigade  moved  to  an  elevation 
near  and  in  rear  of  army  headquarters,  where  it  came  under 
fire.  The  lines  were  faced  by  the  rear  rank;  the  second,  now 
become  the  first,  moved  forward  to  meet  the  advancing  foe 
and  hold  a  crest  in  front.  The  troops  moved  gallantly  and 
drove  back  the  advance  of  the  enemy,  and  became  warmly 
engaged,  capturing  several  prisoners.  About  this  time  a  large 
number  of  the  19th  Army  Corps  passed  through  the  line  and 
broke  its  organization.  The  line  could  not  be  reformed  in  that 
place  in  consequence  of  the  numbers  retreating  over  the  ground. 
The  greater  part  of  the  troops  of  that  line  collected  and  formed 
on  the  remaining  line.  The  brigade  was  then  under  severe  fire, 
both  from  infantry  and  artillery.  Troops  left  the  field  on  both 
my  right  and  left,  until  the  brigade  was  without  immediate 
support.  At  this  particular  moment  the  9th  New  York  Heavy 
Artillery*  behaved  with  coolness  and  gallantry.  Under  orders 
the  troops  moved  back  with  great  regularity  a  short  distance 
to  another  elevation,  where  they  were  met  by  another  order 
to  retire  to  a  road  half  a  mile  to  the  rear.  At  the  road  the 
position  was  occupied  a  few  minutes,  the  8th  Corps  on  my  left. 
I  was  then  ordered  to  move  to  the  left.  I  did  so,  connecting 
with  the  left  of  the  8th  Army  Corps.  Having  now  no  connec 
tion  on  my  left,  I  ordered  Captain  Prentiss,  6th  Maryland,  to 
protect  the  left  flank  by  skirmishers.  The  direction  was  prompt 
ly  carried  out. 


*Lleutenant  Colonel  Moses  M.  Granger  of  the  122d  Ohio,  before  the 
Ohio  Commandery,  Loyal  Legion,  said:  "We  had  a  good  view  of  our 
brigade  while  marching  to  the  rear,  and  especially  admired  the  bear 
ing  of  the  9th  New  York  Heavy  Artillery,  our  largest  regiment." 
Adjutant  Wheeler  of  the  122dOhio  in  a  letter  to  Colonel  Granger  says: 
"Admiring  the  splendid  performance  of  the  9th  New  York,  under 
their  lieutenant  colonel  (just  promoted  from  senior  major,  and  who 
had  never  been  under  fire  before);  they  marched  like  a  militia 
regiment  on  parade,  and  were  frequently  halted,  dressed,  faced 
about  and  made  to  fire.  It  certainly  had  a  good  moral  effect." 


174  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

After  occupying  the  position  some  time,  I  received  orders  to 
move  to  the  rear.  I  did  so,  the  troops  of  the  8th  Army  Corps 
passing  to  my  left,  and  took  a  position  a  mile  to  the  rear  of 
that  last  occupied.  Here  we  were  ordered  to  move  obliquely 
to  the  left  and  rear,  and  connect  with  the  right  of  the  2d  Divi 
sion,  6th  Army  Corps.  We  connected  with  the  right  of  the 
8th  Corps  at  a  stone  fence  in  a  wood  near  the  pike.  Defensive 
works  were  hastily  constructed  of  such  material  as  could  readily 
be  had,  and  the  troops,  it  being  noon,  rested,  some  two  hours  or 
more.  .  .  .  While  we  were  in  this  position,  Major  General  Sheri 
dan  rode  along  the  line  from  left  to  right,  encouraging  the  men. 
He  was  greeted  with  most  enthusiastic  cheers  by  the  troops. 
This  was  the  first  assurance  the  army  had  of  his  return.  About 
3  P.  M.  the  whole  army  advanced  in  one  line  against  the 
enemy.  Immediately  before  advancing  the  troops  were  with 
drawn  to  the  left,  and  my  left  connected  with  the  2d  Division, 
6th  Corps,  while  my  right  connected  with  the  1st  Brigade,  3d 
Division.  .  .  .  Several  efforts  were  made  by  the  enemy 
during  the  pursuit  to  rally,  but  the  enthusiastic  pursuit  foiled 
all  such  efforts.  Our  troops  were  subject  to  artillery  fire  of 
solid  shot,  shell  and  grape  during  the  pursuit,  and  we  reached 
the  intrenchments  of  the  19th  Army  Corps  (which  were  cap 
tured  in  the  morning)  as  the  sun  set.  Here  the  pursuit  by  the 
infantry  was  discontinued.  The  first,  second  and  probably  the 
third  colors  planted  on  the  recovered  works  of  the  19th  Corps 
were  of  regiments  composing  this  brigade.  .  .  . 

Colonel  J.  Warren  Keifer,  commanding  the  3d  Division,  in 
his  extended  report,  mentions  particularly  the  services  of 
Major  J.  W.  Snyder,  commanding  the  9th  Heavy,  and  also 
Major  Charles  Burgess,  in  command  of  one  of  the  battalions. 
Captain  Anson  S.  Wood,*  chief  of  pioneers  upon  his  staff,  is 
commended  for  his  faithfulness  and  gallantry  in  the  thickest 
of  the  battle.  He  also  stated  that  the  9th  New  York  Heavy 
Artillery,  for  its  noble  behavior,  deserves  to  be  specially  men 
tioned.  "The  regiment  had  several  hundred  recruits  that  had 
just  entered  the  service." 

Let  us  now  return  to  Sheridan,  whom  we  left  riding  swiftly 
to  the  fray. 

Here  are  his  words,  descriptive  of  his  first  sight  of  the  rout 
and  his  subsequent  action: 


•Colonel  Granger ,in  the  paper  already  quoted  from,  has  these  words : 
"Just  then  Major  Anson  Wood,  of  the  9th  N.  Y.  Heavy  Artillery 
(one  of  our  division  staff),  was  seen  galloping  across  the  plateau 
beyond  the  ravine.  Reining  up  and  raising  his  hand  in  salute  to 
Colonel  Ball,  the  major's  horse  fell  dead  before  the  rider  could  speak 
his  message." 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  175 

At  Mill  creek  niy  escort  fell  in  behind,  and  we  were  going 
ahead  at  a  regular  pace,  when,  just  as  we  made  the  crest  of 
thie  rise  beyond  the  stream,  there  burst  upon  our  view  the 
appalling  spectacle  of  a  panic-stricken  army,  hundreds  of 
slightly  wounded  men,  throngs  of  others  unhurt,  but  utterly 
demoralized,  and  baggage-wagons  by  the  score,  all  pressing  to 
the  rear  in  hopeless  confusion,  telling  only  too  plainly  that  a 
disaster  had  occurred  at  the  front.  On  accosting  some  of  the 
fugitives,  they  assured  me  that  the  army  was  broken  up,  in  full 
retreat,  and  that  all  was  lost;  all  this  with  a  manner  true  to 
that  peculiar  indifference  that  takes  possession  of  panic-stricken 
men.  I  was  greatly  disturbed  by  the  sight,  but  at  once  sent 
word  to  Colonel  Edwards,  commanding  the  brigade  in  Win 
chester,  to  stretch  his  troops  across  the  valley,  near  Mill  creek, 
and  stop  all  fugitives,  directing  also  that  the  transportation 
be  passed  through  and  parked  on  the  north  side  of  the  town. 
.  .  .  .  For  a  short  distance  I  traveled  on  the  road,  but 
soon  found  it  so  blocked  with  wagons  and  wounded  men  that 
my  progress  was  impeded,  and  I  was  forced  to  take  to  the  ad 
joining  fields  to  make  haste.  When  most  of  the  wagons  and 
wounded  men  were  passed,  I  returned  to  the  road,  which  was 
thickly  lined  with  unhurt  men,  who,  having  got  far  enough  to 
the  rear  to  be  out  of  danger,  had  halted,  without  any  organiza 
tion,  and  begun  cooking  coffee,  but  when  they  saw  me,  they 
abandoned  their  coffee,  threw  up  their  hats,  shouldered  their 
muskets,  and  as  I  passed  along  turned  to  follow  with  enthu 
siasm  and  cheers.  To  acknowledge  this  exhibition  of  feeling  T 
took  off  my  hat,  and  with  Forsyth  and  O'Keefe  rode  some  dis 
tance  in  advance  of  my  escort,  while  every  mounted  officer 
who  saw  me  galloped  out  on  either  side  of  the  pike  to  tell  the 
men  at  a  distance  that  I  had  come  back.  In  this  way  the 
news  was  spread  to  the  stragglers  off  the  road,  when  they,  too, 
turned  their  faces  to  the  front  and  marched  towards  the  enemy, 
changing  in  a  moment  from  the  depths  of  depression  to  the 
extreme  of  enthusiasm.  I  already  knew  that  in  the  ordinary 
condition  of  mind  enthusiasm  is  a  potent  element  with  soldiers, 
but  what  I  saw  that  day  convinced  me  that  if  it  can  be  excited 
from  a  state  of  despondency  its  power  is  almost  irresistible. 
I  said  nothing  except  to  remark  as  I  rode  along  the  road,  "If 
I  had  been  with  you  this  morning,  this  disaster  would  not  have 
happened.  W^e  must  face  the  other  way;  we  will  go  back  and 
recover  our  camp."  .  .  .  When  nearing  the  valley  pike,  just 
south  of  Newtown,  I  saw  about  three-fourths  of  a  mile  west  of 
the  pike  a  body  of  troops,  which  proved  to  be  Ricketts's  and 
Wheaton's  divisions  of  the  6th  Corps,  and  then  learned  that  the 
19th  Corps  had  halted  a  little  to  the  right  and  rear  of  these, 
but  I  did  not  stop,  desiring  to  get  to  the  extreme  front.  Con 
tinuing  on  parallel  with  the  pike,  about  midway  between  New- 
town  and  Middletown,  I  crossed  to  the  west  of  it,  and  a  little 


176  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

later  came  up  in  rear  of  Getty's  division  of  the  6th  Corps. 
.  .  .  .  Between  3.30  and  4  o'clock,  I  was  ready  to  assail, 
and  decided  to  do  so  by  advancing  my  infantry  line  in  a  swing 
ing  movement,  so  as  to  gain  the  valley  pike  between  Middle- 
town  and  the  Belle  Grove  House. 

Few  battles  during  the  Rebellion  have  received  more  atten 
tion  at  the  hands  of  the  historian  than  that  of  Cedar  Creek. 
That  it  was  one  of  the  most  important,  few  will  question.  The 
former  engagements  in  the  valley  campaign,  fierce  and  bloody 
though  they  were,  had  only  scotched  the  snake,  not  killed  it. 
Early  had  the  prevailing  American  characteristic  of  not  know 
ing  when  he  was  whipped,  and  in  this  instance  his  ignorance 
came  near  working  irreparable  misfortune  to  the  Union  cause, 
for  the  effect  upon  the  presidential  contest,  then  in  progress, 
of  such  a  defeat  as  the  morning's  result  bade  fair  to  be,  no 
one  can  overestimate.  His  attack  and  early  success  must  be 
acknowledged  to  be  phenomenal;  whether  his  surprise  would 
have  been  any  less  fortunate  for  him,  had  Sheridan  been  in 
the  camp,  we  can  never  tell.  Very  likely  the  presence  of  the 
trusted  chief  might  have  sooner  brought  order  out  of  chaos, 
but  that  his  coming  was  the  sole  cause  of  the  subsequent  vic 
tory,  no  6th  Corps  man  will  ever  concede.  The  rout  was  over, 
the  tide  was  stemmed,  the  tangled  ends  were  in  the  hands  of 
Wright,  and  the  advance  would  have  been  made  earlier  than 
it  was  made  had  not  Sheridan  appeared.  No  one  questions  the 
enthusiasm  which  his  coming  inspired,  nor  the  value  of  his 
presence,  but  twenty-four  years  later,  he  said:  "The  surprise 
of  the  morning  might  have  befallen  me  as  well  as  the  general 
upon  whom  it  did  descend." 

At  no  moment  was  there  anything  approaching  a  panic  in 
the  ranks  of  the  6th  Corps,  and  in  saying  this  there  is  no  re 
flection,  direct  nor  implied,  upon  the  organizations  that  first 
received  the  shock  of  the  enemy's  attack.  We  had  time  to  form, 
and  we  did  so;  we  acted  steadily  and  constantly  under  orders, 
and  never  fell  back  a  step,  except  as  the  overlapping  or  flank 
ing  of  the  foe  necessitated  it.  Individuals  may  have  run  away, 
but  no  regiment  nor  other  body  of  men  belonging  to  the  corps 
was  for  a  moment  stampeded.  The  most  that  has  been  uttered 
about  the  battle,  in  an  adverse  manner,  has  come  from  those 
who  never  saw  this  nor  any  other  fight,  and  in  fancy  they  have 
worked  wonders.  They  are  scarcely  Don  Quixotes  even,  but 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  177 

rather  the  windmills  that  the  latter  assailed.  Should  they  care 
to  question  those  who  were  there,  they  would  find  a  thorough 
agreement  of  sentiment  as  to  the  situation  when  Sheridan  came 
up.  The  alignment  of  the  6th  and  19th  Corps  was  retained  as 
he  found  it,  and  the  advance  was  made  therefrom.  That  some 
poor  fellows  were  obliged  to  run,  no  one  denies.  They  were 
assailed  while  sleeping  quietly  in  their  tents.  Naked  they 
sprang  from  them,  and  without  arms  or  clothing  they  sought 
shelter  as  best  they  could;  but  they  did  not  make  up  an  army. 
They  were  the  very  first  attacked,  and  their  more  fortunate 
comrades  further  back  had  more  opportunity  to  dress  and  be 
ready.  Among  those  regiments,  as  Sheridan  rode  up,  were  men 
who  were  to  bear  a  prominent  part  in  coming  years  in  the 
affairs  of  the  country.  He  states  in  his  Memoirs  that,  at  one 
point,  a  group  of  colors  arose  as  he  approached,  and  among  the 
officers  he  recognized  R.  B.  Hayes,  afterwards  president,  then 
commanding  a  division  in  the  8th  Corps,  and  with  him  must 
have  been  another  future  president,  for  William  McKinley, 
a  member  of  the  same  23d  Ohio,  was  an  officer  on  Hayes's 
staff. 

What  General  Wright  himself  thought  upon  this  subject  is 
evident  from  the  following  letter,  now  for  the  first  time  printed. 

A  member  of  the  regiment,  Charles  A.  Ford  of  Homer,  N.  Y., 
several  years  since  addressed  a  letter  to  General  Wright,  to 
which  the  latter  was  pleased  to  reply  as  follows: 

Washington,  Dec.  5th,  1889. 

Dear  Sir:  I  am  in  receipt  of  yours  of  the  30th  ult.,  in  which 
you  present  the  following  question:  "Do  you  think  the  events 
of  the  19th  of  October,  1864,  would  have  been  materially 
changed  had  General  Sheridan  remained  in  Winchester?" 

The  position  taken  up  by  the  6th  and  19th  Corps,  after  the 
events  of  the  early  morning,  was  in  accordance  with  my  in 
structions,  and  I  had  no  thought  of  falling  back  further;  and  I 
fully  intended  to  assume  the  offensive  as  soon  as  the  troops 
should  be  fairly  in  position.  The  formation  was  nearly  com 
pleted  when  General  Sheridan  arrived  and  was  carried  out 
under  the  orders  already  given,  none  of  them  being  changed 
by  General  Sheridan;  indeed,  he  approved  of  all  the  arrange 
ments  as  I  explained  them  to  him.  I  should  have  attacked 
sooner  than  he  did;  and  while  the  delay  was  advantageous  to 
us  by  allowing  needful  rest  to  our  troops,  it  must  not  be  for 
gotten  that  the  enemy  derived  a  like  advantage.  That  we 
should  beat  the  enemy  I  felt  no  doubt;  the  6th  and  19th 
Corps  were  both  well  in  hand,  had  suffered  little  from  the 
12 


178  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

events  of  the  morning,  and  my  confidence  in  them  was  unim 
paired. 

I  think  the  foregoing  is  an  answer  to  your  question;  and  I 
have  proposed  to  confine  this  reply  strictly  thereto,  not  going 
into  a  general  consideration  of  the  events  of  that  day. 
Very  respectfully, 

H.  G.  WRIGHT, 
Brig,  and  BVt  Maj.  Gen.  U.  S.  A. 

(Retired). 

Fortunately  the  report  of  Major  James  W.  Snyder  command 
ing  the  regiment  is  particularly  explicit,  and  it  is  given  in  full 
with  an  expressed  regret  that  other  officers  of  the  Ninth 
were  not,  on  occasion,  equally  clear  and  comprehensive: 

Our  regiment  was  aroused  at  daylight  by  musketry  on  the  ex 
treme  left  of  our  line  and  in  front  of  the  8th  Corps.  I  immediate 
ly  ordered  the  men  under  arms.  Lieutenant  Wiley  of  Colonel 
Keifer's  staff,  commanding  2d  Brigade,  rode  up  and  ordered  the 
regiment  into  line.  We  formed  line  in  front  of  our  camp, 
struck  tents  and  slung  knapsacks.  The  sick  were  sent  to  the 
rear,  and,  as  the  sailors  would  say,  the  "decks  were  cleared  for 
action."  We  immediately  moved  off  by  the  right  flank,  by  file 
right,  forming  a  line  perpendicular  to  the  first  line  and  faced 
to  the  rear.  At  this  time  Colonel  Keifer,  commanding  brigade, 
succeeded  to  the  command  of  the  3d  Division,  General  Ricketts 
being  wounded,  and  Colonel  Ball  took  command  of  the  brigade. 
I  was  then  ordered  to  move  the  regiment  by  the  left  flank  to 
the  ground  in  front  of  our  camp,  and  after  halting  a  few  min 
utes,  I  was  ordered  to  countermarch  by  the  left  flank,  and 
moved  out  and  formed  a  line  parallel  and  some  150  yards  to 
the  right  and  rear  of  our  first  line.  From  this  position,  we 
opened  fire  and  held  in  check  the  rebels,  who  were  advancing 
upon  the  knoll  near  the  camp.  At  this  time  we  were  on  the 
right  of  the  brigade  with  no  connection  on  our  right,  and  after 
a  few  volleys  we  were  ordered  to  fall  back  and  take  a  position 
on  a  knoll  some  200  yards  to  the  rear  of  this  line.  Here  we 
again  opened  fire  upon  the  enemy,  whose  colors  could  be  dis 
tinctly  seen  between  us  and  our  camp  as  we  advanced.  At  this 
point  their  fire  was  very  severe,  but  we  returned  compliment 
for  compliment  in  the  shape  of  leaden  bullets.  The  ground 
was  literally  covered  with  our  dead  and  wounded,  but  we  con 
tested  the  ground,  inch  by  inch,  until  an  aide  from  the  brigade 
commander  ordered  us  to  fall  back  below  the  crest  of  the  hill, 
which  we  did  in  good  order.  At  this  moment  General  Wright, 
commanding  the  army  in  the  absence  of  General  Sheridan,  rode 
up  and  ordered  me  to  advance  and  hold  the  crest.  The  com 
mand  "Forward"  was  given.  The  men  responded  with  a  cheer, 
and  advanced  with  enthusiasm  under  a  galling  fire  in  front 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  179 

and  upon  our  flanks.  The  balance  of  the  brigade  having  fallen 
back,  and  there  being  no  connection  on  our  right,  our  flank 
was  left  exposed  to  a  severe  cross-fire  from  the  rebel  columns, 
which  had  got  almost  to  our  rear. 

Captain  Dudrow,  on  the  brigade  staff,  rode  up  again,  and  or 
dered  me  to  fall  back.  I  pointed  him  to  General  Wright,  saying, 
"The  general  has  ordered  me  to  hold  this  crest,  and  I  shall 
obey  his  orders."  Our  fire,  in  the  meantime,  being  delivered 
with  so  much  spirit,  had  checked  the  advance  of  the  rebels, 
and  gave  the  troops  in  our  rear  a  chance  to  form  a  line.  The 
line  being  formed,  we  were  ordered  to  fall  back,  and  marching 
by  the  rear  rank  at  a  left  oblique,  we  joined  the  1st  Division 
on  our  right.  We  then  halted,  faced  to  the  front  in  a  road  or 
lane,  and  immediately  moved  by  the  left  flank  into  a  piece  of 
woods  about  half  a  mile  to  the  left.  There  we  halted,  faced 
to  the  front,  and  sent  forward  as  skirmishers  about  seventy  men 
under  command  of  Lieutenants  Flynn  (Company  K)  and  Parrish 
(Company  M).  Again  under  orders  we  fell  back  and  marched  by 
the  right  oblique  nearly  a  mile,  when  our  brigade  joined  the  2d 
Division  on  our  left.  We  then  faced  to  the  front  and  the  whole 
line  advanced,  taking  position  about  one  mile  and  a  quarter 
north  of  Middletown.  There  we  threw  together  a  breastwork 
of  rails,  which  we  occupied  from  10.30  A.  M.  till  3.30  P.  M., 
when  the  whole  line  was  ordered  to  advance  through  a  piece 
of  woods,  which  we  did  in  good  order,  the  122d  Ohio  being  on 
our  left.  When  we  were  nearly  through  the  wood  and  about 
to  emerge  into  an  open  field  on  our  right,  a  heavy  fire  of 
musketry  and  shell  was  poured  into  us  and  caused  our  whole 
line  to  waver.  At  first  a  portion  of  our  left  fell  back,  but  they 
were  soon  rallied  and  pushed  forward  and  drove  the  rebels 
about  three-quarters  of  a  mile,  until  they,  taking  position  be 
hind  a  stone  wall,  disputed  our  advance  for  more  than  an  hour. 
A  portion  of  my  command,  having  gained  a  stone  wall  running 
perpendicular  to  the  wall  behind  which  the  enemy  was  posted, 
delivered  an  enfilading  fire,  which  threw  them  into  confusion 
and  finally  into  a  perfect  rout.  Their  officers  tried  in  vain  to 
rally  them,  while  my  men,  cheered  with  the  prospect  of  victory, 
pressed  on  after  the  retreating  foe,  driving  them  down  the 
ravine  on  the  north  side  of  the  pike,  and  halted  not  till  our 
colors  were  planted  first  upon  the  parapet  of  the  rifle-pits  in 
front  of  the  19th  Corps. 

Mention  of  individual  bravery  would  be  superfluous,  for  both 
officers  and  men  did  their  duty.  .  .  . 

Some  400  men,  recruits,  who  were  never  under  fire  before — 
in  fact  never  had  arms  in  their  hands  except  from  Harper's 
Ferry  to  this  place — fought  splendidly  and  behaved  like  vet 
erans. 

It  is  due  to  the  memory  of  Lieutenant  Orrin  B.  Carpenter, 
Company  D,  who  was  killed  in  the  early  part  of  the  engage- 


180  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

ment,  to  say  that  although  suffering  long  from  fever,  and  but 
just  able  to  walk,  and  having  been  repeatedly  urged  for  weeks 
before  to  go  to  the  hospital,  invariably  requested  to  remain 
with  his  company,  and  when  the  battle  commenced  was  found 
in  line  with  his  men.  He  was  shot  through  the  heart  by  a 
rebel  sharpshooter  while  doing  his  duty  and  now  fills  a  patriot's 
grave.  Peace  be  to  his  ashes. 

Lieutenant  Oldswager,  Company  M,  just  promoted  from  the 
ranks,  but  three  days  before  was  killed  by  a  cannon-ball 
when  we  advanced  upon  the  crest.  He  was  a  noble  and  brave 
officer  and  never  flinched  from  duty. 

Captain  Howard,  Company  E,  was  instantly  killed  by  a 
cannon-ball,  the  last  shot  that  was  fired  from  the  rebel  guns  as 
we  made  the  last  advance  near  the  Middletown  and  Strasburg 
pike,  and  when  victory  had  crowned  our  efforts.  He  died  as 
all  brave  soldiers  die,  with  his  face  towards  the  enemy,  and  will- 
long  be  remembered  as  one  of  America's  bravest  sons. 

Thus  far  we  have  the  great  battle  as  seen  by  officers,  or  in 
general  terms.  How  did  it  seem  to  the  enlisted  man?  Fortu 
nately  that  query  can  be  answered,  for  we  have  the  stories  of 
observers  written  upon  the  spot  and  very  soon  after  the  strug 
gle.  The  following  letter  explains  itself: 

THE    BATTLE    OF    CEDAR    CREEK. 
Written  on  a  Drumhead  by  one  who  was  there. 

The  morning  of  October  19th  was  cold  and  misty;  the  fog 
was  so  thick  and  impenetrable  that  we  could  not  see  across 
our  camp  to  distinguish  a  man.  Just  at  the  break  of  day  I  was 
awakened  by  the  firing  of  the  19th  Corps  and  8th  Corps  on  our 
front  and  left.  We  were  ordered  to  immediately  "fall  in"  under 
arms,  which  we  did.  The  regiment  was  formed  in  line;  we 
were  then  ordered  to  "break  ranks,"  and  go  to  our  company 
streets  and  pack  up — strike  tents  as  soon  as  possible.  We  soon 
had  all  of  our  effects  on  our  backs,  and  were  in  the  ranks  again. 
By  this  time  the  fire  had  become  hot  and  rapid,  the  balls  were 
whistling  through  our  company  and  regiment.  We  faced  to  the 
right  and  marched  by  that  flank  to  the  rear,  and  filing  to  the 
right,  halted  and  formed  a  line  facing  to  the  south.  We  were 
here  but  a  moment;  we  again  faced  to  the  right  and  moved  back 
to  our  first  position,  the  double  quick;  halting  here  but  a  mo 
ment  we  were  moved  back  again  to  the  position  we  had  just 
left;  forming  a  line  here  we,  being  on  an  elevated  piece  of 
ground,  were  ordered  to  lie  down  and  let  the  storm  of  lead  and 
iron  pass  over  us.  Now  the  battle  begins  to  get  interesting; 
the  19th  and  8th  Corps  have  broken  and  are  flying  across  Cedar 
creek,  seeking  protection  of  the  6th  Corps.  The  rebels  follow 
with  deafening  cheers;  already  they  have  turned  the  guns 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  181 

which  they  have  captured  on  to  their  former  owners;  they 
hurl  their  shot  and  shell  with  deadly  effect  into  the  flying 
columns  of  the  19th  and  8th  Corps.  The  rebels  are  frantic  with 
delight  at  the  success;  but,  alas!  they  come  to  Sheridan's  head 
quarters,  and  looking  over  on  the  hill  they  see  the  cross  of  the 
gallant  6th  Corps;  they  did  not  expect  this,  but  they  now  feel 
confident  that  even  the  iron  courage  of  the  6th  will  not  be  able 
to  stop  them  in  their  course  of  victory.  They  rush  on  after  the 
corps  just  routed;  they  meet  the  6th;  our  regiment  is  in  the 
front  line,  and  is  the  first  to  meet  the  foe.  The  order  comes  to 
"rise  and  fire."  Like  one  man  the  whole  line  rises  up  and  pours 
in  its  deadly  fire,  which  stops  the  rebels  and  sends  them  stagger 
ing  back  to  the  stone  wall  and  protecting  hill.  Our  boys  send 
up  cheer  after  cheer,  and  keep  up  the  most  deadly  fire  ever 
poured  into  a  foe.  But  soon  the  order  comes  to  aabout  face" 
and  "retreat";  this  order  is  obeyed  very  reluctantly,  for  the 
rebels  are  on  our  old  camp-ground,  and  the  boys  feel  enraged 
at  their  impudent  trespass;  but  casting  our  eyes  to  the  left,  we 
see  why  we  fall  back;  the  rebels  have  flanked  us  on  our  left, 
and  already  they  pour  in  a  deadly  cross-fire  on  our  lines;  our 
men  are  falling  thick  and  fast  on  every  side;  we  fall  back  to 
a  knoll,  and  again  halt  and  pour  in  our  fire.  Here  our  color- 
bearer,  Thomas  Paden,  of  Company  M,  was  shot  and  killed. 
Our  colors  fell  to  the  ground  stained  by  the  blood  of  the  brave 
color-bearer,  but  they  hardly  touched  the  ground  before  they 
were  caught  up  by  one  of  our  Company  F,  and  waved  triumph 
antly  in  the  face  of  the  foe.  Here  my  tent-mate,  Wilmer  Stout, 
was  wounded.  Firing  three  rounds  after  he  was  hit,  he  refused 
help  to  go  to  the  rear,  and  hobbled  off  from  the  field  alone; 
such  is  the  material  the  6th  Corps  is  composed  of;  God  bless 
them.  Again  the  rebel  flanks  us  on  the  left;  again  we  are  com 
pelled  to  fall  back  slowly,  fighting  at  every  step,  contesting 
every  inch  of  ground.  The  enemy  has  got  range  of  us  now, 
and  pours  in  such  a  hail  of  canister,  shot  and  shell,  the  air  is 
boiling  and  seething  with  bullets;  solid  shot  tear  through  our 
ranks,  and  make  fearful  vacancies,  which  are  quickly  and 
steadily  filled  up.  The  men  move  as  steadily  as  if  they  were 
on  drill  or  parade,  their  comrades  falling  on  every  side;  they 
heed  it  not,  but  stubbornly  fight  and  repeatedly  ask  to  charge 
the  rebels.  They  do  not  know  what  defeat  is;  they  do  not 
know  how  to  retreat.  Here  one  of  our  boys,  Anthony  Riley, 
was  shot  and  killed;  his  father  was  by  his  side;  the  blood  and 
brains  of  his  son  covered  the  face  and  hands  of  the  father.  I 
never  saw  a  more  affecting  sight  than  this;  the  poor  old  man 
kneels  over  the  body  of  his  dead  son;  his  tears  mingle  with 
his  son's  blood.  O  God!  what  a  sight;  he  can  stop  but  a  mo 
ment,  for  the  rebels  are  pressing  us;  he  must  leare  his  dying 
boy  in  the  hands  of  the  devilish  foe;  he  bends  over  him,  kisses 
his  cheek,  and  with  tearful  eyes  rushes  to  the  fight,  determined 


182  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

on  revenge  for  his  son.  We  continue  to  fall  back  slowly,  fight 
ing  at  every  inch;  the  musketry  fire  now  slackens,  and  we  rec 
tify  our  alignment  and  fall  back  in  splendid  order.  The  ques 
tion  is  being  constantly  asked,  "Why  are  we  retreating?"  We 
get  no  answer.  We  now  reach  the  woods.  Our  ammunition  is 
exhausted,  and  has  been  for  some  time;  we  sent  a  detail  for 
cartridges,  and  the  company  is  on  the  skirmish  line.  We  skir 
mish  out  and  soon  find  the  enemy.  Our  object  accomplished, 
we  return  to  the  regiment,  which  has  moved  to  the  left  quite 
a  distance.  I  have  omitted  to  say  anything  of  our  officers. 
During  the  whole  engagement  they  behaved  themselves  with 
great  courage  .and  gallantry.  I  wish  to  speak  especially  of 
Captain  Lamoreaux.  No  braver  officer  than  he  ever  carried  a 
sword,  no  kinder-hearted  man  than  he  can  be  found;  during 
the  whole  fight  he  was  at  his  post  encouraging  the  boys;  in 
deed,  it  seemed  he  had  no  fear,  and  fighting  gave  him  pleasure. 
He  was  complimented  on  the  field  of  battle  by  the  adjutant  gen 
eral  of  General  Wright's  staff.  Such  an  officer  deserves  the 
respect  and  admiration  of  all  his  men,  and  our  captain  has  all 
of  that. 

The  musketry  has  now  ceased,  but  the  artillery  fire  is  very 
brisk;  the  shell  and  canister  are  poured  in  very  freely  where 
we  are  forming.  We  now  converted  hastily  a  rail-fence  into 
temporary  breastworks;  behind  this  we  lay  now,  waiting  the 
attack  of  the  "Johnnies."  Here  Lyman  Coleman  broke  one  of 
his  false  teeth.  .  .  .  We  had  not  long  to  wait  here,  for 
they  soon  charged  at  the  right  of  our  lines.  Just  at  this  time 
General  Sheridan  came  up  and  rode  along  our  lines;  the  tired 
and  battle-worn  soldiers  greeted  him  with  rousing  cheers.  He 
told  us  we  would  sleep  that  night  in  the  same  old  camp-ground 
we  left  in  the  morning;  that  we  would  soon  gain  all  that  we 
had  lost.  This  seemed  to  inspire  every  soldier  with  fresh  cour 
age,  and  all  were  anxious  to  charge  the  victorious  rebels,  and 
we  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  the  "Johnnies"  came  down  on  our 
right  with  their  cat-like yells,that  sounded  more  like  demons  than 
men.  Our  boys  returned  yell  for  yell,  and  greeted  them  with  a 
deadly  volley  of  musketry;  in  all  my  army  experience  I  never 
before  heard  such  firing;  the  earth  shook  and  reeled;  the  forest 
trees  trembled  with  the  shock;  no  living  man  could  stand  such 
firing  as  this.  They  were  hurled  back  to  their  ranks  bleeding 
and  broken,  and  now  comes  the  order  to  charge.  Our  captain 
said  to  me,  "We  are  now  going  to  charge.  God  only  knows 
who  will  come  out  alive."  "Forward!"  he  commands  in  loud 
tones.  Up  spring  the  boys,  over  the  rail-piles  we  go;  the  cau 
tionary  command  rings  out,  "Steady,  men,  steady."  Oh!  what 
a  sight  to  see  these  men  press  on  in  the  face  of  death,  nothing 
daunted.  We  get  outside  of  the  woods  into  the  open  field,  the 
rebels  pouring  into  our  faces  a  deadly  fire  from  behind  the 
stone  wall,  which  has  a  deadly  effect  on  our  ranks;  but  they 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  183 

close  up  and  press  on  with  cheers  and  shouts;  we  gain  a  hill  in 
front  of  the  enemy;  here  we  halt  and  pour  in  our  fire.  Our 
company  halts  on  a  point  of  the  hill,  and  of  all  the  fires  I  was 
ever  under,  I  think  that  was  by  far  the  hottest;  the  air  boils 
and  seethes  with  minie-balls  and  screeching  shells  and  solid 
shot  and  deadly  canister;  all  tear  and  plunge  through  our  ranks. 
Our  boys  fall  thick  and  fast;  but  look!  the  brigade  is  falling 
back;  the  brigade  wavers;  I  hear  the  voice  of  the  gallant  old 
colonel  from  the  tumult  of  the  battle  urging  up  them  who  are 
falling  back.  He  says:  "Will  you  leave  those  boys  to  face  the 
foe  alone?  Back,  you  cowards."  He  succeeds  in  rallying  them, 
and  we  again  move  forward.  The  rebels  fight  well,  but 
we  flank  them,  and  they  must  give  way.  We  gain  a 
position  behind  a  stone  wall  and  give  them  a  cross-fire; 
we  fight  hand  to  hand  and  man  to  man.  Oh !  these  are  dreadful 
moments.  The  rebels  give  way  on  the  right;  we  capture  the 
battery  which  has  played  such  fearful  havoc  in  our  ranks; 
their  whole  line  wavers;  now  they  run.  Hurrah  for  the  Union! 
Hurrah  for  old  Abe's  boys!  Now  begins  one  of  the  worst  stam 
pedes  of  the  war.  Talk  about  Bull  Bun;  it  is  no  comparison 
to  Cedar  Run.  The  rebs  throw  away  everything  that  would 
impede  flight  and  skedaddle  for  life.  Our  cavalry  charge  their 
flank;  they  fall  into  complete  confusion,  every  man  for  him 
self.  There  is  no  rallying  the  gray-backed  rebels  of  Jubal 
Early.  How  my  heart  leaps  for  joy  to  see  the  glorious  stars 
and  stripes  following  close  on  the  heels  of  the  flying  rebels; 
the  plain  is  dotted  with  flags,  the  air  resounds  with  the  shouts 
of  the  victorious  "Yanks,"  which  sound  the  death-knell  of  the 
flying  foe,  which  only  stops  and  fires  an  occasional  shot.  The 
prisoners  pour  in  by  regiments;  whole  trains  of  wagons  and  artil 
lery  fall  into  our  hands  at  once.  Darkness  is  now  closing  over 
the  scene.  O  night,  you  came  just  in  time  to  save  the  remnant 
of  this  once  grand  army.  They  make  quick  work  in  climbing 
Fisher's  hill;  drivers  abandon  their  teams,  and  all  flee  the 
wrath  to  come.  Early  says:  "Take  to  the  mountains;"  and  to 
the  mountains  they  go,  the  worst  whipped  rebels  the  world 
ever  saw. 

It  is  now  dark.  We  are  all  ordered  to  our  old  camp;  slowly 
we  wend  our  way,  stepping  over  the  bodies  of  friends  and  foes. 
Now  and  then  the  groans  of  the  dying  and  wounded  break 
the  stillness  of  the  night;  a  gloom  hangs  over  the  field  of  battle; 
I  come  to  the  old  camp;  I  come  to  the  very  ground  where  my 
tent  stood  in  the  morning,  but  I  now  miss  my  tent-mate  and 
comrade.  I  feel  lonesome,  and  utterly  exhausted  I  lie  down 
on  the  ground.  Victory  was  on  our  banner,  but  our  comrades 
living  and  dead  mingle  together  on  the  ground.  ...  I  was 
very  tired.  I  hadn't  eaten  anything  all  day,  yet  I  could  not 


184  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

sleep,  nor  could  I  eat;  I  could  but  mourn  for  my  poor  comrades, 
our  shattered  and  bleeding  regiment. 

Morning  comes  at  last;  the  sun  rises  on  a  horrible  scene;  the 
dead  cover  the  ground,  the  wounded  have  lain  all  night  and 
are  now  dying  slowly.  I  will  here  come  to  the  conclusion.  I 
forbear  to  bring  up  this  scene  again.  Please  excuse  the  poor 
way  in  which  I  have  described  this  terrible  battle.  Let  your 
prayers  be  for  the  speedy  return  of  peace  to  this  our  distracted 
country. 

CHARLES  L.  SHERGUR. 

Fought  Oct.  19th,  1864. 

From  far  away  Missouri  comes  this  account  of  personal 
recollection  of  the  fierce  encounter  by  Stephen  E.  Hurtubise 
of  Company  L: 

Corporal  Clark,  Elisha  Springer  and  myself  were  tent-mates, 
and  on  the  morning  of  the  19th  of  October  I  went  to  a  spring 
for  three  canteens  of  water,  about  one-fourth  of  a  mile  from 
our  camp.  It  was  daylight,  but  quite  early.  I  met  three  or  four 
comrades  whom  I  did  not  know,  but  who  were  on  the  same 
errand  as  myself.  We  got  the  water  and  washed,  as  soldiers 
often  did,  and  while  we  were  at  that  we  heard  a  gun  fired  at 
our  left,  and  one  man  said:  "It  was  on  the  picket-line,"  and  I 
replied,  "What  are  they  doing  with  artillery  on  picket?"  Before 
many  minutes  we  knew  that  a  fight  was  on,  and  we  left  for 
our  commands.  When  I  got  to  my  regiment,  the  men  had 
fallen  in,  but  the  guns  were  still  stacked  and  the  boys  were 
trying  to  get  some  breakfast,  but  the  Johnnies  prevented  their 
cooking  anything.  Bullets  were  flying  in  our  camp,  and  the 
order  was  to  pack  up  and  fall  in.  We  were  not  long  at  that, 
our  line  facing  westward,  and  the  fighting  was  southeast.  As 
soon  as  we  were  in  line,  we  moved  by  the  right  flank  in  double 
quick,  and  that  brought  our  line  east  and  west  with  the  com 
mand,  "Halt!  Front!"  We  were  with  our  backs  to  the  Johnnies; 
not  a  good  position  to  fight  in,  and  when  the  officers  saw  what 
they  were  doing,  they  countermarched  us  under  fire  to  bring 
us  face  to  the  fight.  I  may  say  right  here  that  not  many  troops 
would  stand  this  and  not  break,  but  the  old  Ninth,  rank  and 
file,  was  as  good  as  any  of  them.  Our  brigade  advanced,  and 
Captain  William  Wood,  commanding  our  battalion,  ordered 
us  to  lie  down,  and  a  stream  of  wounded  and  demoralized  troops 
passed  over  us  and  went  to  the  rear.  It  looked  to  me  as  if  the 
whole  army  was  running  to  the  north,  and  the  Johnnies  after 
them.  Then  came  the  order  to  rise  and  to  begin  firing,  but 
after  a  round  or  two,  some  were  panic-stricken  and  started  to 
fall  back.  I  had  an  old  Springfield  musket,  and  it  didn't  go 
off,  so  I  tried  to  make  it  go,  but  fate  was  against  me.  While 
I  was  holding  it  up  to  fire,  a  ball  struck  the  stock  and  it  was 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  185 

worthless.  At  this  moment,  looking  around,  I  found  that  my 
self  and  two  others  formed  the  line  of  battle,  our  comrades 
having  forsaken  us.  It  didn't  take  us  long  to  get  back  where 
the  other  boys  were,  but  by  his  time  the  officers  had  stopped 
the  panic,  and  the  firing  was  brisk  on  the  right,  but  there  was 
some  sort  of  commotion  in  our  company,  and  I  went  to  see 
what  it  was  all  about.  I  found  Lieutenant  Howe,  with  a  gun 
across  his  body,  barring  the  way  of  some  men  who  wanted  to 
form  a  line  further  north,  but  he  would  not  hear  to  it.  I  asked 
him  to  give  the  gun  to  me,  for  mine  was  broken,  and  he  com 
plied.  I  made  the  boys  mad  by  telling  the  lieutenant  to  let  the 
boys  run  if  they  wanted  to,  whereupon  they  turned  upon  me, 
and  said  they  were  as  good  soldiers  as  I  was,  and  would  not 
run.  So  we  all  stayed,  and  did  our  duty  like  men.  No  more 
scare  after  that.  We  kept  the  Johnnies  at  bay  for  some  time, 
but  we  lost  some  good  men  right  there.  One  of  the  Jackson 
boys  was  killed  by  my  side,  and  the  other  wounded,  but  the 
line  was  firm.  Captain  Andrew  J.  Smith  of  General  Keifer's 
staff  rode  up  to  us  with  division  colors  and  wanted  our  regi 
ment  to  advance,  but  no  order  to  do  so  was  given  by  our  officers. 
He  said  he  would  give  a  dollar  if  we  would  tell  him  what  we 
were  firing  at;  just  then  Corporal  Kibbie  of  L  Company  was 
hit  in  the  arm,  and  he  offered  the  captain  five  dollars  if  the 
latter  would  tell  who  hit  him.  The  officer  did  not  take  the 
proffer,  but  rode  away,  thinking  we  were  a  hard  lot.  The  boys 
were  as  cool  as  if  on  parade.  My  comrade,  Sinclair,  tried  to 
light  his  brier  pipe,  saying,  "My  breakfast  was  not  very  good 
(he  hadn't  had  any),  and  I  don't  know  how  long  this  foolishness 
will  last."  He  always  had  a  cool  head  for  a  young  man.  About 
this  time  we  must  have  moved  around  some,  for  when  I  was 
wounded  and  started  for  the  rear  with  James  Bell,  we  found 
that  rear  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  and  we  were  both  taken 
prisoners,  and  were  carried  over  the  field  where  we  first  formed 
in  line  of  battle,  passing  many  dead  and  badly  wounded.  We 
were  taken  to  the  Belle  Grove  mansion,  where  Sheridan  had  his 
headquarters.  Now  the  rebels  were  using  it  for  a  hospital.  I 
was  left,  but  Bell  was  taken  further.  There  were  many 
wounded  rebel  officers  in  the  house,  among  them  General  Kam- 
seur,  who  died  the  next  day.  It  was  10  o'clock  when  I  was 
led  in,  and  I  remained  there  till  Little  Phil  came  and  played 
hob  with  the  Johnnies,  and  I  saw  them  run.  About  3  P.  M. 
they  came  and  carried  off  all  the  wounded  officers  they  could 
and  left  the  rest  for  the  Yankees  to  take  care  of,  including 
General  Ramseur,  some  doctors  and  all  wounded  Yanks.  I 
was  in  the  house  when  General  Sheridan  came  in,  at  night, 
and  I  saw  him  and  heard  him  give  orders  about  the  wounded. 
Excitement  ran  high  with  all  at  headquarters,  but  the  rebels 
were  not  quite  so  elated  over  their  defeat  as  they  were  when 
I  was  first  taken  to  the  house,  when  they  said  they  were  going 


186  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

to  run  the  Yankees  into  the  Potomac.  About  2  or  3  o'clock  we 
knew  that  something  was  going  on  towards  the  north,  as  the 
noise  of  battle  grew  louder.  We  made  up  our  minds  that  the 
Johnnies  were  retreating,  and  we  got  all  the  boys  we  could 
up  stairs  to  see  the  fun.  The  excitement  kept  some  of  us  up 
who  ought  to  have  been  down,  myself  among  the  rest,  but  we 
did  want  to  see  the  rebels  run.  The  old  lady  who  had  charge 
of  the  house  told  us  we  had  better  lie  down  or  the  enemy 
would  run  us  off,  and  she  was  right;  for  very  soon  a  reb  sharp 
shooter  came  running  in  and  ordered  all  Yankees  who  could 
walk  to  go  with  him;  as  he  had  a  gun,  the  advantage  was  with 
him.  My  hurt  was  in  the  head,  but  I  wasn't  walking  just  then, 
and  the  old  lady  told  him  none  of  us  could  walk  (God  bless  her 
for  that  lie),  and  he  opened  the  window  to  take  a  farewell  shot 
at  our  boys  as  they  were  in  sight,  following  the  fleeing  enemy 
mighty  close.  To  open  the  window  he  had  to  set  his  gun  down, 
whereupon  the  good  woman  grabbed  it  and  wouldn't  give  it  up 
until  he  promised  to  go  down  stairs  and  leave  the  house.  If 
women  can't  fight  they  know  how  to  help  those  who  do.  But 
the  rebel  did  not  get  away,  for  I  followed  him  and  saw  him  cut 
down  by  a  oth  New  York  Cavalryman  about  100  feet  from  the 
house.  He  had  stayed  with  us  too  long.  The  cavalryman  I 
happened  to  know,  for  I  had  seen  him  in  Syracuse,  and  his 
name  was  Ormsby.  He  may  be  living  yet.  There  were  dead 
men  around  the  house,  some  of  ours,,  but  mostly  Johnnies.  The 
next  morning  as  I  was  taken  to  Newtown,  I  saw  the  effects  of 
the  battle,  and  a  sorry-looking  sight  it  was.  Many  hundred 
wounded  men  of  both  sides  lay  on  the  ground  in  Newtown. 
The  next  day  the  doctors  said  they  died  like  sheep  the  night 
before,  for  it  was  very  cold  during  the  night.  Some  folks  say 
the  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  was  not  a  surprise,  but  if  it  wasn't, 
then  I  don't  know  what  a  surprise  party  is.  General  and  staff 
were  all  at  sea.  When  the  sun  shone  on  us,  about  8  A.  M., 
troops  could  be  seen  all  over  falling  back  in  line  and  in  mobs, 
but  at  5  P.  M.  the  rebels  were  running,  and  they  looked  like  a 
flock  of  dirty  sheep.  We  looked  badly  enough  in  the  morning, 
but  what  a  mob  the  Johnnies  were  in  the  evening!  They  threw 
away  all  the  blankets  they  had  picked  up  in  our  camps  in  the 
morning  and  some  had  rolls  as  big  as  a  man's  body.  I  saw 
their  officers  try  to  stop  them,  but  it  was  a  stampede.  Since  the 
war,  T  have  seen  a  stampede  of  cattle,  and  it  was  like  that  of 
the  rebs  at  Cedar  Creek.  To  say  that  I  felt  happy  is  no  name 
for  the  feelings  I  had  when  I  saw  them  running.  I  was  not 
sure  of  living  if  I  had  remained  a  prisoner  in  their  hands,  for  T 
was  badly  wounded;  my  jaw  was  broken  and  a  large  minie-ball 
was  in  my  neck,  but  I  forgot  all  my  hurts  in  the  joy  of  knowing 
that  the  enemy  was  beaten.  I  never  saw  the  Old  Ninth  after 
that,  and  very  few  of  the  men  that  were  in  Company  L,  since 
T  was  sent  to  the  hospital  in  Philadelphia,  and  was  discharged 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  187 

therefrom  in  1865.  I  owe  my  life  to  Little  Phil  and  the  good 
ladies  of  Philadelphia,  for  he  recaptured,  and  they  nursed  me 
back  to  health. 

STEPHEN  E.  HURTUBISE. 


INCIDENTS    OF   THE    BATTLE. 

Samuel  F.  Harris,  then  1st  sergeant  of  Company  I,  gives  this 
version  of  the  beginning  and  progress  of  the  battle: 

The  night  before  the  fight  I  sent  a  private  of  my  company, 
Edward  Dongus  (sometimes  called  the  Wild  Dutchman),  with 
some  money  to  the  sutler's  to  buy  something  for  breakfast. 
Captain  Hughes  and  myself  were  tenting  together,  and  I  told 
Dongus  not  to  cook  his  purchase  till  morning,  and  I  would 
help  him.  His  reply  was,,  "Ich  cook  him  to-night,  Ich  haf  him; 
Ich  wait  till  morning,  Ich  don't  haf  him."  Accordingly  he  and 
several  others  filled  a  large  camp-kettle  and  cooked,  I  should 
think,  nearly  all  night,  for  very  early  in  the  morning  he  came 
and  pulled  me  out  of  the  tent  by  my  foot,  and  I  went  over  with 
him  and  secured  a  dish  of  the  stew,  and  brought  it  back  for  the 
captain;  then  returned  and  helped  finish  the  kettle.  We  had 
got  through  our  repast  and  were  sitting  around  the  fire  talking 
and  smoking,  as  soldiers  are  wont  to  do,  when  we  were  sur 
prised  to  hear  the  report  of  two  or  three  shots,  apparently  on 
picket  over  by  the  19th  Corps,  and  this  was  quickly  followed 
by  a  volley.  My  first  order  was,  "Fall  in,  company,"  and  then 
I  told  Captain  Hughes.  WTe  soon  had  orders  to  strike  tents 
and  to  form  line  at  the  foot  of  the  street,  which  we  quickly  did, 
and  I  am  almost  sure  Company  I  was  first  in  line,  with  tents 
struck,  guns  stacked  and  waiting  orders;  but  we  had  not  long 
to  wait,  for  the  regiment  was  quickly  in  line  of  battle,  and 
soon  began  firing.  It  seemed  to  me  as  soon  as  the  rebels  would 
flank  us,we  would  fall  back  slowly  and  then  give  it  to  them  again. 
A  good  many  from  the  19th  Corps  who  were  surprised  came 
rushing  through  our  lines.  Some  would  stop,  but  a  great 
many  kept  on  to  the  rear.  Many  in  the  8th  and  19th  Corps 
were  panic-stricken,  and  could  not  be  stopped.  I  think  more 
of  the  19th  than  the  8th  appeared  along  our  lines.  We  continued 
to  fall  back  slowly,  contesting  every  inch  about  two  miles  past 
Middletown,  where  we  threw  up  a  temporary  breastwork  of 
rails  near  the  road,  and  had  orders  to  cook  our  breakfast,  for 
very  few  had  had  my  good  luck,  and  it  was  pretty  late  for 
this  first  meal,  almost  12  o'clock.  We  were  busy  cooking  when 
General  Sheridan  came  off  the  road  just  a  few  feet  from  my 
left,  and  rode  in  front  of  the  lines.  His  words,  as  I  remember 
them,  were,  "Boys,  we  will  give  them  the  worst  whipping  they 
ever  had.  We  have  got  them,  and  not  a  man  lives  to  see  to- 


188  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

night  without  sleeping  on  his  old  camp-ground."  This  was  all  I 
could  catch  as  he  rode  by,  his  horse  all  covered  with  foam. 
In  a  short  time  we  had  orders  to  advance,  which  we  promptly 
obeyed,  passing  through  a  small  woods  in  our  front  to  a  stone 
wall,  where  we  made  a  short  halt,  but  we  soon  advanced  again, 
firing  as  we  went,  and  never  stopped  till  night.  Some  of  the 
company  went  back  to  their  old  camp-ground,  though  some  of 
us  stayed  where  the  19th  Corps  had  been,  but  in  the  morning 
we  took  our  old  positions. 

The  worthy  sergeant  had  had  an  exceptionally  good  break 
fast,  but  only  the  kindness  of  one  of  his  company  furnished 
him  a  supper.  Says  J.  R.  Northcott,  now  of  Toronto,  Canada: 
"The  sergeant  said,  "Well,  boys,  we  shall  have  to  wait  till 
to-morrow  for  something  to  eat.'  I  said,  'No,  sergeant,  I 
have  kept  my  haversack  all  day.'  So  we  sat  down  and  ended 
the  day  with  a  good  supper,  which  we  enjoyed  as  only  veterans 
can." 

Mention  has  been  made  of  the  worthy  behavior  of  thb  recruits 
who  had  had  little  or  no  experience.  Should  any  close  student 
of  data  study  the  appended  company  rolls,  he  will  have  occa 
sion  to  wonder  at  the  mortalities  and  casualties  among  the 
recently  joined  members.  Evidently  the  tyros  did  not  like  the 
terms  of  reproach  sometimes  used  towards  them  by  unthinking 
comrades,  and  so,  needlessly,  exposed  themselves.  The  old 
soldier  hunts  cover  not  only  to  take  care  of  himself,  but  he 
knows  that  a  live  fighter  is  a  great  deal  better  than  a  dead 
hero.  In  his  admirable  history  of  the  Vermont  brigade,  Col 
onel  A.  F.  Walker  says:  "Fighting  experience,  which  went  so 
far  in  enabling  a  good  soldier  to  accomplish  the  most  with  the 
least  possible  danger."  To  stand  up  and  take  it  has  long  been 
a  characteristic  of  the  British  people  and  their  descendants, 
but  the  backwoods  fighter  of  America  was  just  as  brave  and 
a  great  deal  more  successful.  From  a  letter  of  one  of  the  boys, 
who  came  with  the  recent  relay,  the  following  is  copied.  Like 
the  good  boy  and  soldier  that  he  was,  Alfred  E.  Stacey  of 
Company  L  was  giving  an  early  account  of  himself  to  the  loved 
ones  at  home: 

Near  Strasburg,  October  20. 

I  had  a  nice  time  of  it  yesterday,  which  was  going  into  a 
big  battle  and  coming  out  just  as  well  as  I  went  in,  except 
being  tired  from  climbing  fences  and  backing  up  and  charging 
on  the  Johnnies.  A  ball  went  through  Anth's  (his  brother) 
cap,  close  to  his  head.  He  says  he  is  glad  he  didn't  grow  any 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK. 

taller,  for  half  an  inch  more  of  stature  would  have  laid  him  out. 
The  rebs  dressed  up  in  our  clothes  and  relieved  our  pickets. 
Then  they  made  a  rush  on  the  19th  Corps  and  clubbed  them 
with  their  muskets.  About  7  A.  M.  they  were  on  to  the  6th 
Corps,  and  all  the  regiments  went  back  but  the  Ninth,  which 
retired  slowly,  fighting  step  by  step.  The  rebs  flanked  us,  and 
we  got  our  wounds  there.  We  went  back  three  miles  and 
made  breastworks  of  rails;  it  was  here  that  General  Sheridan 
rode  along.  Y.ou  should  have  heard  the  cheering.  He  got 
here  about  11  A.  M.,  and  at  3  we  made  the  charge.  We  faltered 
once,  but  rallied. 

In  his  diary  for  the  same  period,  he  enters: 

Of  the  five  recruits,  one,  H.  Hayhoe,  is  dead,  and  Barber  and 
George  (his  brother)  are  wounded.  Over  twenty  killed  and 
wounded  in  Company  L.  We  camped  at  night  on  the  same 
ground  they  drove  us  from  in  the  morning.  I  tried  to  help 
some  of  the  rebs  to  quit  the  Rebellion.  I  took  aim  at  nineteen 
of  them,  besides,  shooting  without  aim.  Nearly  all  the  rebs 
were  hit  in  the  head,  ours  in  the  legs. 

His  brother,  George,  was  shot  in  the  thigh. 

The  casualties  among  his  comrades,  recruits,  is  in  evidence 
as  to  the  care  that  older  soldiers  took  of  themselves.  Three 
out  of  every  five  in  the  regiment  would  have  made  an  excep 
tional  record. 

William  H.  Tucker,  Company  B,  now  of  Monona,  Iowa,  thinks 
no  company  was  in  the  fight  earlier  than  his : 

I  know  our  regiment  stood  in  our  original  position  till  I  had 
fired  forty  rounds,  and  was  on  the  next  forty  when  we  fell  back, 
and  then  we  were  nearly  surrounded,  yet  we  backed  up  in  good 
order  and  continued  to  pour  the  lead  into  the  Johnnies.  .  .  . 
I  remember  that  when  the  rebs  came  down  out  of  the  fog  to 
the  little  brook  to  get  behind  the  stone  wall,  I  shouted  to  my 
comrades,  "Shoot  down  that  flag,"  and  we  shot  it  down  four 
times,  in  less  than  seven  minutes,  and  then  they  lay  behind  the 
wall  to  hold  it  up. 

George  H.  Alpeter,  Company  L,  of  Syracuse,  N.  Y.,  after  2 
P.  M.,  was  shot  three  times — in  the  right  leg,  above  the  knee; 
right  forearm,  and  just  above  the  right  ear;  went  first  to  the 
field  hospital,  Newtown,  and  thence  in  an  ambulance  to  Mar- 
tinsburg.  Six  live  men  started  in  that  vehicle;  only  two 
were  taken  out  alive  at  the  end  of  the  trip.  And  yet  after  all 
these  punctures,  Comrade  Alpeter  rejoined  the  regiment  in 
front  of  Petersburg.  Truly  there  is  a  deal  of  wear  in  human 
nature. 


190  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

George  A.  Pitcher,  Company  H,  of  Nunda,  N.  Y.,  writes  that 
he  was  one  of  nine  members  of  that  company  who  put  up  their 
tents  on  the  very  same  ground  that  they  occupied  in  the  morn 
ing.  Evidently  the  regiment  was  not  a  united  body  when  the 
day  was  done,  but  some  recalled  Sheridan's  promise  and  wanted 
to  verify  it.  Pitcher  was  one  of  the  recent  comers. 

Lieutenant  Fish  of  Company  B  was  again  wounded  and 
carried  from  the  field,  many  thought,  for  the  last  time:  but 
there  was  wear  in  the  lieutenant  yet.  His  company  had  fifteen 
killed  and  wounded.  Behind  the  chimney  of  Major  Snyder's 
quarters  lay  three  dead  rebels. 

During  the  hottest  of  the  morning's  fighting,  and  when 
wounded  men  were  going  or  being  helped  to  the  rear,  an  officer 
saw  a  man  drop  his  gun  and  start  back,  and,  fearing  some 
might  go  who  had  no  need,  he  took  the  man  by  the  shoulder, 
saying,  " Where  are  you  going?"  With  a  woeful  face,  the  man 
pointed  to  his  head,  and  replied,  "Oh,  I'm  hit,  I'm  hit."  A 
bullet  had  cut  a  hole  in  his  hat,  from  which  his  hair  instead  of 
his  brains  protruded.  Lifting  his  hat  the  officer  says.  "Oh, 
you  are  all  right;  it  hasn't  drawn  blood;"  whereupon  the  scared 
man  smilingly  returned  to  the  ranks  and  his  weapon. 

Adjutant  Vincent  A.  Kenyon  presents  this  graphic  picture 
of  a  scene  in  this  October  drama: 

Acting  Adjutant  Philip  Sturge  of  Company  K  was  shot 
through  the  neck  and  fell  from  his  horse,  and  as  his  foot  was  not 
released  from  the  stirrup,  he  was  dragged  some  distance  in  full 
view  of  the  regiment.  He  was  supposed  to  be  mortally 
wounded,  but  he  is  alive  to-day.  When  his  foot  was  freed,  the 
horse  galloped  off  wildly  across  the  open  plain  or  pasture  to  the 
enemy,  entering  their  lines,  though  he,  apparently,  had  no  in 
tention  of  stopping,  for  more  than  a  hundred  rebels  tried  to 
head  him  off,  waving  battle-flags,  hats  and  guns  in  front  of 
him;  but  he  dodged  them  all  and  made  straight  for  our  lines, 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  our  left,  amidst  a  shower  of  bul 
lets.  In  a  second,  before  any  one  could  stop  him,  he  had  made 
his  way  through  our  soldiers  and,  coming  up  behind  Colonel 
Snyder's  cream-colored  horse,  taking  his  place  upon  the  col 
onel's  left,  came  to  a  dead  halt.  In  a  moment  Colonel  Snyder 
had  another  officer  in  the  saddle.  The  whole  affair  did  not  take 
ten  minutes,  nor  even  five,  as  he  went  on  a  keen  run,  and  did 
not  stop  nor  change  his  gait  till  he  reported  for  duty  to  our 
colonel.  Being  a  white  horse,  or  nearly  so,  he  made  one  of  the 
grand  sights  of  the  war;  his  head  and  tail  were  well  up  as  he 
ran  to  and  from  the  rebel  lines,  and  when  in  them,  seeming  to 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  191 

be  on  inspection  bent,  he  kept  moving  fast,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"No,  you  don't."  The  view  was  immense,  not  a  tree  nor  a 
hedge,  and  the  lines  were  not  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
apart,  firing  into  each  other's  faces  almost.  Upon  one  portion 
of  the  line,  the  firing  almost  ceased  as  we  watched  the  horse, 
he  being  in  full  sight  of  the  regiment  from  start  to  finish. 
When  he  took  his  place  again  by  the  colonel's  side,  cheers 
went  up,  and  then  the  shooting  began  again. 

General  Early  in  his  account  of  the  battle  says: 
This  was  a  case  of  a  glorious  victory,  given  up  by  my  own 
troops  after  they  had  won  it,  and  it  is  to  be  accounted  for  on 
the  ground  of  the  partial  demoralization  caused  by  the  plunder 
of  the  enemy's  camps,  and  from  the  fact  that  the  men  under 
took  to  judge  for  themselves  when  it  was  proper  to  retire.  Had 
they  but  waited,  the  mischief  on  the  left  would  have  been 
remedied.  I  have  never  been  able  to  satisfy  myself  that  the 
enemy's  attack,  in  the  afternoon,  was  not  a  demonstration  to 
cover  his  retreat  during  the  night.  It  certainly  was  not  a  vig 
orous  one,  as  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  the  very  small  force 
with  Ramseur  and  Goggin  held  him  in  check  so  long,  and  the 
loss  in  killed  and  wounded  in  the  division  which  first  gave 
way  was  not  heavy,  and  was  the  least  in  numbers  of  all  but 
one,  though  it  was  the  third  in  strength,  and  its  relative  loss 
was  the  least  of  all  the  divisions.  .  .  .  There  was  an  indi 
viduality  about  the  Confederate  soldier  which  often  caused 
him  to  act  in  battle  according  to  his  own  opinions,  and  thereby 
impair  his  own  efficiency;  and  the  tempting  bait  offered  by  the 
rich  plunder  of  the  enemy's  well-fed  an,d  well-clothed  troops, 
was  frequently  too  great  for  our  destitute  soldiers  and  caused 

them  to  pause  in  the  career  of  victory 

It  may  be  asked  why  with  my  small  force  I  made  the  attack. 
I  can  only  say  we  had  been  fighting  large  odds  during  the 
whole  war,  and  I  knew  there  was  no  chance  of  lessening  them. 
It  was  of  the  utmost  consequence  that  Sheridan  should  be 
prevented  from  sending  troops  to  Grant,  and  General  Lee,  in 
a  letter  received  a  day  or  two  before,  had  expressed  an  earnest 
desire  that  a  victory  should  be  gained  in  the  valley  if  possible, 
and  it  could  not  be  gained  without  fighting  for  it.  I  did  hope 
to  gain  one  by  surprising  the  enemy  in  his  camp,  and  then 
thought,  and  still  think,  I  would  have  had  it  if  my  directions 
had  been  strictly  complied  with,  and  my  troops  had  awaited 
my  orders  to  retire. 

This  explanation  was  written  by  our  opponent  the  year  after 
the  close  of  the  war,  and  is  as  good  a  setting  forth  as  his  side 
could  have.  Whatever  the  cause,  whether  individuality  of  the 
soldier  or  the  fortune  of  war,  terrible  disaster  overtook  the  Con 
federates,  and  the  to  them  bright  sun  of  the  morning  became 


192  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

at  eve  the  gloomiest  of  objects,  and  though  there  were  Con 
federates  in  the  valley  to  the  end,  they  were  of  comparatively 
little  consequence;  their  power  to  seriously  cripple  had  departed 
with  their  losses  on  this  19th  day  of  October. 

Early  lost  1860  killed  and  wounded  with  above  1200  pris 
oners;  twenty-four  cannon  fell  into  our  hands,  besides  the  same 
number,  taken  in  the  morning,  recaptured  by  us  in  the  after 
noon;  we  retook  all  our  lost  ambulances  and  seized  fifty-six  of 
his.  along  with  many  stands  of  colors ;  in  addition  to  all  of  this, 
the  cavalry  captured  and  burned  many  baggage-wagons  and 
ambulances.  So  effectually  had  Early's  artillery  been  captured 
(he  had  lost  fifty-six  pieces  in  all)  that  when  a  new  requisition 
on  the  Richmond  War  Department  was  made,  the  order  was 
filled,  but  a  waggish  clerk  directed  the  same  to  General  P.  H. 
Sheridan,  care  of  General  Jubal  A.  Early,  and  it,  too,  in  time, 
reached  its  destination. 

Nor  did  we  escape  without  serious  gaps  in  our  own  ranks. 
The  morning's  attack  had  swept  more  than  1400  men  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy,  and  these,  kept  in  order,  Early  says  were 
the  only  men  under  his  direction  who  were  not  in  confusion 
in  the  grand  culmination.  Indeed,  he  ascribes  the  lack  of 
more  vigorous  pursuit  to  the  fact  that  the  Union  cavalry  mis 
took  these  prisoners,  in  the  twilight,  for  a  compact,  battle- 
ordered  array  of  Confederates.  We  lost  569  killed,  and  3425 
wounded,  a  record  calculated  to  distribute  sorrow  through 
thousands  of  northern  homes.  In  the  final  aggregates,  it  is  in 
teresting  to  note  that  our  own  regiment,  in  this  battle  for  the 
first  time  fighting  together,  lost  more  men  than  any  other 
organization  at  Cedar  Creek.  Sixty-four  of  our  comrades  were 
killed  or  mortally  wounded,  and  the  other  wounded  brought 
our  total  of  casualties  up  to  208.  Comparing  other  heavy  artil 
lery  regiments,  presumably  as  large  as  ours,  we  find  the  1st 
Vermont  losing  24  killed  and  mortally  wounded,  with  an  aggre 
gate  of  107,  including  20  missing.  The  2d  Connecticut  foots 
up  44  as  above,  with  an  aggregate  of  190,  including  60  miss 
ing.  No  other  regiment  in  the  division,  save  the  10th  Vermont, 
needs  more  than  one  numeral  to  express  the  killed.  In  our 
own  brigade  all  the  other  regiments  together  do  not  equal 
our  loss.  It  is  evident  that  there  was  reason  for  the  boast, 
made  by  the  boys  of  the  Ninth,  that  they  stood  up  and  fought, 
and  that  the  enemy  appeared  to  have  no  difficulty  in  finding 


THE  VALLEY  AND  CEDAR  CREEK.  193 

them.  No  member  of  the  regiment  ever  failed  to  accord  the 
highest  praise  to  Lieutenant  Colonel  Snyder  for  the  masterly 
manner  in  which  he  led  his  boys  on  that  day.  He  was  coolness 
and  courage  personified. 

General  officers  as  well  as  their  men  were  much  in  the  way 
of  bullets,  and  General  Charles  Russell  Lowell  of  the  2d  Mas 
sachusetts  Cavalry,  in  the  battle  commanding  a  brigade,  who 
had  ridden  so  bravely  in  the  charge  at  Winchester,  here  rode 
to  his  death;  Colonel  Joseph  Thoburn,  a  division  commander 
in  the  8th  Corps,  and  General  Daniel  B.  Bidwell  of  the  3d 
Brigade,  2d  Division,  6th  Corps,  had  gone  down  in  the  early 
morning.  Colonel  J.  H.  Kitching  of  the  6th  New  York  Heavy 
Artillery  was  fatally  wounded,  while  missiles  found  Colonel 
R.  S.  Mackenzie  and  William  H.  Penrose,  both  commanding 
brigades.  General  Ricketts  of  our  own  division  was  wounded 
soon  after  the  battle  began,  and  was  carried  from  the  field; 
General  Grover  of  the  19th  Corps  was  severely  injured,,  and  no 
6th  Corps  man  will  ever  forget  the  bloody  face  that  our  gal 
lant  Wright  carried  over  the  field  from  early  morn  until  the 
fight  was  fought  and  won. 

The  battle  and  the  victory  made  Sheridan  a  major  general 
in  the  United  States  Army. 

It  is  always  difficult  to  give  exact  data  concerning  numbers 
engaged.  As  a  rule  both  sides,  for  obvious  reasons,  will  reduce 
their  statements  as  much  as  possible;  but  the  following  compi 
lation  made  by  General  Richard  B.  Irwin,  historian  of  the  19th 
Army  Corps,  may  be  considered  as  fair  as  any.  He  says: 
"Wright  commanded  an  effective  force  of  not  more  than  31,000 
officers  and  men  of  all  arms,  made  up  of  9000  in  the  6th  Corps; 
9500  in  the  19th  Corps;  6000  in  Crook's  command,  and  6500 
cavalry.  The  infantry  probably  numbered  23,000:  Ricketts, 
8500;  Emory,  9000;  Crook,  5500.  Of  these,  therefore,  the  hard 
fighting  fell  on  17,500.  The  losses  in  the  6th  and  19th  Corps 
nearly  all  occurred  in  the  early  morning,  being  about  4500;  the 
two  corps  should  have  mustered  13,500  for  the  counter-attack 
in  the  afternoon,  yet  the  ground  they  then  stood  upon,  from 
the  road  to  the  brook,  measures  barely  7400  feet.  With  all 
allowances,  therefore,  Sheridan  can  not  have  taken  more  than 
8000  men  into  this  attack.  This  leaves  out  Crook's  men  bodily, 
and  calls  for  5500  unrepentant  stragglers  from  the  ranks  of 
Emory  and  Wright — one  man  in  three.  After  all  there  is  noth- 
13 


194 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


ing  so  extraordinary  in  this,  but  strange  indeed  would  it  have 
been  if  many  of  these  skulkers  had  come  back  into  the  fight 
as  Sheridan  considerately  declares  they  did. 

"As  to  Early's  force,  the  difficulty  of  coming  to  a  positive 
conclusion  is  even  greater.  General  Early  himself  says  he  went 
into  the  battle  with  but  8800  muskets.  General  Dawes,  per 
haps  the  most  accomplished  statistician  of  the  war,  makes  the 
total  present  for  duty,  22,000;  of  these  15,000  would  be  infantry. 
The  figures  presented  in  the  Century  War  Book  call  for  15,000 
of  all  arms.  Of  these  10,000  would  be  infantry." 


FORD  AT  CEDAR  CREEK. 


CHAPTER     XIX. 

FROM  CEDAR  CREEK  TO  PETERSBURG. 

If  possible  the  day  after  a  battle  is  more  trying  to  the  nerves 
than  the  fight  itself.  Then  there  is  the  excitement,  amounting 
almost  to  intoxication,  to  prompt  the  soldier  to  action,  but  when 
the  foe  has  fled  and  we  seek  out  and  bury  our  dead,  then  come 
tears,  the  trembling  lip,  and  the  heartacne,  to  last  till  its  latest 
throb.  One  man  buries  on  the  field  his  tent-mate.  To  one 
northern  home  will  go  the  sad  news  that  husband  and  father 


FROM  CEDAR  CREEK  TO  PETERSBURG. 


195 


are  slain  on  the  same  day  and  now  sleep  side  by  side.  For 
days  after  the  fight,  along  the  stone  walls,  dark,  clotted  masses 
proclaim  the  pools  of  blood  where  life  was  rendered. 

Besides  our  own  comrades,  lying  with  their  white  upturned 
faces,  the  ground  is  strewn  with  the  dead  bodies  of  our  late 
enemies  once  as  quick  as  we,  those  who  with  exultant  shout 
dashed  through  our  ranks  on  yestermorn.  Truly  they  are 

"Friend,  foe, — in  one  red  burial  blent  I" 

While  the  cavalry  hangs  on  the  rear  of  the  demoralized  Con 
federates,  making  their  rout  complete,  to  the  infantry  comes  the 
task  of  rendering  back  to  earth  the  clay  which  till  yesterday 
had  marched,  camped,  hoped  and  suffered  with  us.  Their 
bivouac  is  to  be  eternal;  we  are  to  take  up  the  strife  on  the 
morrow,  respond  once  more  to  the  bugle-blast,  but 

"No  sound  can  wake  them  to  glory  again." 

Their  forms  will  be  missed  in  the  home  circles,  their  names 
will  be  preserved  in  the  national  archives,  but  as  active  par 
ticipants  in  the  battle  of  life,  they  have  ceased  and  passed  out 
into  the  unseen. 

Till  November  9th  some  part  of  the  regiment  with  the  army 
remains  in  camp  near  Cedar  creek.  The  weather  advances 
from  cold  rain  and  frosts  to  snow  and  need  of  winter  quarters, 
and  reveille  comes  earlier  than  ever. 


From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 

ROLL-CALL. 


196  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

As  it  is  evidently  not  the  intention  of  the  authorities  to  keep 
us  here  all  winter,  but  little  provision  is  made  for  cold  weather, 
only  now  and  then  a  mud  and  stick  chimney  at  the  end  of  a 
tent  to  admit  of  a  better  fire.  Fence-rails  have  become  very 
scarce,  and  sometimes  are  carried  a  mile.  It  is,  however,  no 
life  of  ease  and  inactivity.  There  are  wagon-trains  to  be 
guarded,  prisoners  to  be  escorted,  and  no  end  of  foraging  to  be 
done.  One  of  the  first  tasks  to  be  performed  is  that  of  escorting 
the  captured  rebels  to  a  place  of  confinement. 

Our  regiment  takes  its  part  in  escort  duty,  and  on  the  21st 
Major  Burgess  starts  in  command  of  the  500  or  more  detailed 
for  this  purpose.  There  are  about  2000  of  our  captured  foemen, 
and  it  is  a  responsible  matter  to  see  them  safely  placed  in  final 
custody.  The  route  is  through  Winchester  and  Bunker  Hill 
to  Martinsburg.  Notwithstanding  the  Confederates'  long  ex 
perience,  many  of  them  suffer  from  blistered  feet.  A  part  of 
the  trip  is  made  through  a  drizzling  rain.  We  reach  Martins- 
burg  in  the  afternoon  of  the  22d,  and  see  the  Johnnies  safely 
stowed  on  the  train  in  care  of  a  few  men  for  each  car.  Then 
the  majority  of  the  men  return  to  our  regiment,  while  the 
guard  goes  on  with  the  train  to  Harper's  Ferry.  There  they 
change  cars,  and  rations  are  served.  The  orders  are  to  use  the 
men  civilly,  but  to  guard  them  closely.  On  arrival  in  Baltimorey 
the  rebels  are  placed  in  Fort  McHenry.  Late  in  the  evening 
they  are  taken  thence  and  placed  upon  a  transport,  which  pro 
ceeded  down  Chesapeake  bay  to  Point  Lookout,  just  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Potomac. 

During  the  night  one  of  the  prisoners  told  Sergeant  S.  F. 
Harris  of  Company  I  that  there  was  a  plan  afoot  to  overcome 
the  guard,  capture  the  boat,  run  it  ashore  and  burn  it,  then  to 
make  their  way  across  the  country  to  rebeldom.  Something 
similar  to  this  had  been  done  with  the  transport  Koanoke.  As 
this  prisoner  asserted  his  intention  of  taking  the  oath  of  alle 
giance  whenever  opportunity  offered,  there  seemed  to  be  some 
ground  of  belief  in  his  words.  The  commanding  officer  was 
informed,  and  the  cannon  trained  to  sweep  the  decks  and  orders 
were  issued  to  be  particularly  vigilant.  The  break  was  to  take 
place  at  midnight,  and  at  that  hour  there  was  a  stir  among 
the  prisoners,  but  they  were  ordered  to  lie  down,  under  penalty 
of  being  shot.  They  were  not  slow  to  comply,  but  whispers 
were  heard  among  them  of  traitors.  Nothing  further  occurred 


FROM  CEDAR  CREEK  TO  PETERSBURG.  197 

before  reaching  Point  Lookout,  where  those  who  did  not  go 
"whirling  up  the  valley"  were  turned  over  to  the  care  of  negro 
troops,  a  fact  which  nearly  broke  the  hearts  of  some  of  the 
F.  F.  \Vs. 

Early  on  the  25th  of  October,  the  men  who  had  guarded 
prisoners  to  Martinsburg  and  had  been  waiting  there  a  couple 
of  days,  started  back  with  others  in  charge  of  a  wagon-train. 
They  had  gone  only  a  few  miles  south  of  Bunker  Hill  when 
they  were  assaulted  by  Moseby's*  men,  who  were  in  consider 
able  force  for  them.  However,  the  presence  of  artillery  with 
the  escort  afforded  Colonel  Moseby  a  much  warmer  reception 
than  he  had  calculated  upon.  Accordingly,  he  withdrew  his 
troops  quite  barren  of  trophies,  though  earlier  he  had  captured 
General  Alfred  N.  Duffie,  who  was  carelessly  riding  in  a  light 
wagon  in  front  of  the  train.  Of  this  affair,  Moseby's  historian, 
Captain  James  J.  Williamson,  Company  A  of  the  Rangers, 
says :  "The  train  was  a  large  one,  and  had  started  from  Martins- 
burg  early  in  the  morning  with  a  guard  composed  of  Currie's 
brigade,  together  with  the  5th  Wisconsin  Volunteers,  the  9th 
New  York  Heavy  Artillery,  and  a  force  of  cavalry  made  up  of 
several  detachments,  all  under  command  of  Colonel  Currie." 

Not  being  fully  aware  of  the  length  and  strength  of  the 
train  and  escort,  Moseby  hurriedly  disposed  his  force  for  the 
assault:  Chapman  and  Mountjoy  with  one  squadron,  to  charge 


*No  part  of  the  Confederacy  had  more  nor  more  persistent  and  at 
the  same  time  more  evasive  guerrillas  and  bushwhackers  than  the 
Shenandoah  valley.  It  was  the  stamping-ground  of  Moseby,  by  far 
the  most  noted  of  all  the  irregular  gangs  of  fighters.  His  deeds  and 
those  of  his  followers,  however  admired  by  the  South,  were  scarcely 
better  than  those  of  highwaymen.  October  3rd  Lieutenant  John  R. 
Meigs,  engineer  on  Sheridan's  staff,  was  murdered  near  Harrisonburg, 
within  the  Union  lines.  For  this  everything  combustible  within  a 
radius  of  five  miles  was  ordered  burned,  but  the  command  was  not 
literally  obeyed.  In  November  Lieutenant  Colonel  C.  W.  Tolles,  chief 
quartermaster  of  the  6th  Corps,  and  Captain  Buchanan,  3rd  Division 
commissary,  also  General  Inspector  Doctor  Emil  Ohlenschlager,  were 
waylaid  and  shot.  Captain  Buchanan  was  murdered  under  circum 
stances  of  peculiar  atrocity.  Such  events  prompted  Sheridan  to  send 
General  Wesley  Merritt  through  the  passes  and  fastnesses  of  the  Blue 
Ridge,  with  the  aim  of  completely  destroying  the  resources  and  hiding- 
places  of  these  hard  riders  and  cut-throats.  The  story  of  Moseby  and 
his  men  as  told  in  Captain  Williamson's  "Moseby's  Rangers"  eclipses 
the  wildest  flights  of  fiction. 


198  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

in  front,  while  he,  with  Richards'  squadron,  to  assail  the  rear. 
The  cavalry  were  easily  driven  back,  but  the  infantry  proved 
too  strong,  and  when  the  artillery  opened  fire,  Moseby  drew  off 
his  men,  hoping  that  the  cavalry  would  follow  them  up,  so 
that  he  could  fall  upon  them  at  a  safe  distance  from  the  in 
fantry  and  artillery.  But  this  they  would  not  do.  The  escort 
seemed  to  understand  that  their  duty  was  to  guard  the  train, 
and  they  "stuck  to  it."  Our  own  detachment  was  under  the  com 
mand  of  Captain  S.  F.  Lamoreaux  of  Company  F. 

The  capture  of  General  Duffie  made  some  stir,  and  the  event 
was  the  subject  of  several  dispatches,  one  of  them  being  from 
our  late  Colonel  Seward,  now  brigadier  general  in  command 
at  Martinsburg.  Sheridan  had  little  sympathy  for  the  captured 
officer,*  saying,  "He  was  captured  by  his  own  stupidity." 

Our  boys  reached  their  old  camp  without  further  adventures 
at  sundown  of  the  26th;  also  Captain  Squyer  reported  same 
day.  Meantime,  on  the  22d,  the  beautiful  horse  that  had  borne 
Colonel  Snyder  so  gallantly  in  the  great  battle,  and  that  had 
been  to  our  boys  what  the  white  plumes  of  Henry  of  Navarre 
were  at  Ivry,  succumbed  to  his  wounds,  regretted  by  every  man 
in  the  regiment.  "Do  you  remember  the  colonel's  cream-col 
ored  horse?"  is  a  query  heard  to  this  day  where  comrades  meet. 


—      "  "»^;-j^r— ~- —       ;-_.^ 

From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 


^Brigadier  General  Alfred  N.  Duffi£  was  born  in  France  in  1835;  saw 
distinguished  service  in  the  Crimea  and  in  the  Franco- Austrian  War  of 
1859.  Coming  to  America  at  the  beginning  of  our  Civil  War,  he  early 
took  sides  with  the  North.  Governor  Sprague  of  Rhode  Island  made 
him  colonel  of  the  1st  Rhode  Island  Cavalry,  and  he  was  later  promo 
ted.  During  his  captivity  he  was  held  in  Danville,  where  so  many  of 
the  Ninth's  men  were  confined.  He  was  the  leader  in  the  attempted 
break  in  December,  1864.  After  his  parole  in  February,  1865,  he  was 
sent  to  the  department  of  the  Missouri,  and  there  served  until  the  end 
of  the  war.  The  last  ten  years  of  his  life  were  spent  as  United  States 
consul  at  Cadiz,  Spain,  where  he  died  in  1880. 


FROM  CEDAR  CREEK  TO  PETERSBURG.  199 

October  30th  Companies  A,  G,  C  and  D  guard  a  train  back 
to  Martinsburg,,  late  Captain,  now  Major,  Squyer  in  command. 
He  had  been  away  ever  since  his  wound  at  Cold  Harbor,  and 
had  his  routine  to  learn  over  again. 

The  27th  Major  Burgess  and  his  prisoners'  escort  returned. 
During  these  three  weeks  of  stay  on  Cedar  creek,  though  the 
enemy  was  completely  demoralized  and  his  exhibition  only 
sporadic,  guerrillas  were  common,  and  marauding  raiders  were 
constantly  expected,  consequently  there  was  little  of  the  rest 
that  comes  from  freedom  from  anxiety.  The  round  of  parade, 
drill,  etc.,  was  kept  up  notwithstanding  drenching  rains,  which 
were  common. 

November  1st,  a  foraging  party  went  seven  miles  away  and 
secured  honey  and  hogs  and  a  quantity  of  hay,  leaving  one- 
half  ton  for  the  old  man  owner,  who  sought  it  as  an  act  of 
charity.  It  is  pleasant  to  record  this  retention  of  a  heart  on 
the  Federals'  part.  It  is  probable  that  no  one  item  among 
the  valley  products  made  a  more  lasting  impression  upon  the 
army  moving  along  the  Shenan- 
doah  than  honey.  Ask  any  man 
who  served  there  what  he  remem 
bers  best,  and  the  chances  are  he 
will  answer,  "Honey."  They  be 
came  expert  capturers  of  the 
same,  though  the  accompanying 
picture  showTs  what  sometimes 
befell  the  careless  plunderer. 
Martinsburg  prices  current  are 

From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 

interesting:   sugar,  25   cents  per 

pound;  cheese,  40;  butter,  60;  milk,  10  cents  per  quart. 

November  5th  came  the  first  snow-fall,  but  the  camp-duty 
goes  on  just  the  same;  Companies  H  and  L  on  picket;  four  men 
and  a  corporal  on  a  post.  The  vidette  is  thirteen  rods  away 
from  the  post  in  the  daytime  and  three  rods  away  in  the  night. 
The  posts  are  about  fourteen  rods  apart.  The  momentous  pres 
idential  election  of  1864  came  on  the  8th  of  November,  just  as 
late  as  possible,  and  it  is  not  improbable  that  the  movement  of 
the  Ninth  was  delayed  till  after  the  voting  was  done.  Our  men 
gave  Lincoln  a  large  vote,  as  might  have  been  expected. 

On  the  9th  of  November  begins  the  falling  back,  moving  at 
9.30  A.  M.  and  camping  between  Newtown  and  Winchester. 


200 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


possibly  four  miles  from  the  latter  place.  Except  as  exact 
camp  location  was  varied,  we  remained  here  till  December  3d, 
the  change  of  place  being  caused  by  a  desire  to  be  nearer  the 
base  of  supplies.  There  are  the  daily  foraging  expeditions,  and 
the  wonder  is  that  there  was  anything  left  worth  taking.  Some 
how  or  other  the  enemy  managed  to  make  a  deal  of  noise 
around  us  on  occasion.  On  the  10th  we  change  our  position, 
bringing  our  regiment  on  extreme  right  of  corps,  division  and 
brigade.  The  llth  sees  the  tents  going  up  in  systematic  man 
ner  with  carefully  made  chimneys  and  fireplaces.  In  the  after 
noon  an  alarm  calls  the  boys  out  with  orders  to  pack  up;  but 
firing  ceased  after  dark.  The  next  morning  we  were  stirred  up 
before  daylight,  form  battle-line  and  march  to  crest  of  hill, 
where  we  carried  rails  and  resumed  our  pristine  calling  of  mak 
ing  breastworks.  Lie  behind  them  all  day,  and  are  relieved 
at  night.  We  fire  off  old  loads  in  guns,  return  to  camp  and 
get  our  suppers. 


From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 

FRYING    HARDTACK. 

This  is  our  part  in  the  cavalry  skirmish  of  Newtown.  Early, 
hearing  of  Sheridan's  withdrawal,  fancies  that  the  latter  has 
sent  troops  to  Petersburg,  and  that  there  may  be  a  chance  for 
him  (Early)  to  retrieve  his  lost  fortunes,  but  the  reconnoissance 
reveals  the  main  force  as  strong  as  ever.  It  was  on  this  occa 
sion  that  Jimmy  H.,  a  character  of  Company  A,  though  pretty 
well  known  throughout  the  regiment,  immortalizes  himself. 
At  a  fine,  large  spring  a  mile  and  a  half  from  our  camp,  near 


FROM  CEDAR  CREEK  TO  PETERSBURG.  201 

that  of  the  cavalry,  we  were  accustomed  to  get  water.  On  ac 
count  of  the  distance,  one  man  would  carry  a  large  number  of 
canteens,  thus  saving  many  steps.  It  was  Jimmy's  turn  to  go. 
He  had  fifteen  or  sixteen  canteens.  Later  he  came  running 
back  bareheaded,  minus  all  his  canteens,  his  scant  hair  fairly 
erect  with  terror,  shouting,  in  the  richest  of  brogues,  "Begobs, 
bys,  the  whole  ribbel  ahrmy  is  cornin'."  All  of  us  had  to 
double-quick  in  the  direction  of  Jimmy's  scare  and  spend  the 
night  in  throwing  up  breastworks,  but  the  "ribbels"  had  been 
whipped  by  the  cavalry  long  before  we  could  have  been  of  any 
service.  On  our  way  out  we  found  all  the  canteens  save  one, 
to  which  some  thirsty  soldier  had  apparently  frozen,  for  be  it 
known  that  canteens  in  the  army,  like  umbrellas  at  home,  were 
liable  to  sudden  appropriation. 

The  performance  of  the  13th  is  similar,  for  we  start  at  4 
o'clock  again,  and  as  before  form  in  battle-line;  get  more  rails 
and  repair  works  impaired  by  burning  of  last  night.  In  the 
afternoon  150  prisoners  with  two  pieces  of  artillery,  captured 
yesterday,  pass  through.  Though  a  detail  of  men  is  kept  in 
the  breastworks,  the  majority  of  men  are  interested  in  trying  to 
secure  food  and  maintaining  regular  camp-life.  On  the  16th 
came  a  brigade  review  by  General  Seymour,  division  com 
mander.  Regiment  complimented,  for  we  number  as  many  as 
the  rest  of  the  brigade.  During  the  days  there  is  never-ending 
breastwork  making,  and  blisters  come  on  soldierly  palms, 
much  to  the  disgust  of  the  possessors,  since  that  result  of  work 
ing  for  Uncle  Sam  is  not  popular. 

The  19th,  just  one  month  from  the  great  Battle  of  Cedar 
Creek,  in  behalf  of  Company  E,  Major  William  Wood  gave  to 
Lieutenant  Colonel  Snyder,  after  parade,  a  twenty-five-dollar 
pair  of  spurs.  The  evident  embarrassment  of  both  officers  was 
greatly  to  their  credit,  their  forte  being  deeds  rather  than 
words. 

Sheridan's  review  of  the  6th  Corps,  on  the  21st,  is  a  memor 
able  event  in  the  memory  of  the  men  present.  Though  rain  fell 
all  day,  the  review  went  on  just  the  same.  It  was  no  ordinary 
array  of  men  which  passed  before  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
soldiers  of  the  world's  history.  Man  and  men  were  well  worthy 
of  each  other.  Neither  Sheridan  nor  the  corps  had  ever  been 
found  wanting.  Our  regiment  was  on  the  extreme  left  of  the 
infantry.  The  cavalry  go  out  on  reconnoissance,  and  railroad 


202  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

connections  to  Winchester  are  completed.  The  22d,  Lieutenant 
Yard  took  fifty  men  from  I  and  as  many  more  from  G  and 
started  on  a  foraging  trip  over  the  hills,  ten  miles  and  back. 
Loaded  six  wagons  with  corn  and  hay,  besides  three  hives  of 
honey,  lots  of  pork,,  beans,  apples  and  apple-butter,  all  hidden 
in  the  woods,  but  the  boys  smelled  them  out. 

Thanksgiving  day  for  1864  came  on  November  24th,  and  the 
good  folks  at  home  in  the  North  had  done  their  best  to  make 
the  day  a  pleasant  one.  They  had  sent  a  large  quantity  of 
turkeys,  geese  and  chickens  for  soldiers'  consumption,  but 
somehow  or  other  when  toll  has  been  taken  at  all  the  ports  of 
entry,  the  quantity  left  for  the  men  was  hardly  adequate.  The 
latter  always  thought  the  quartermaster's  department  a  very 
hungry  institution;  at  any  rate  there  were  not  enough  birds 
to  go  round.  Thus  to  the  Ninth  there  came  sixty  turkeys  and 
geese,  just  one  for  every  seventeen  men,  any  four  of  whom 
would  undertake  to  devour  the  very  largest  of  them  and  then 
clamor  for  more.  However,  raffling  for  a  Thanksgiving  dinner 
had  not  been  unknown  at  home  in  the  palmy  days  of  peace, 
and  it  did  not  take  long  to  resolve  upon  lot-drawing  for  the 
disposal  of  them.  Accordingly  a  lucky  few  got  the  fowls,  and 
invited  in  whom  they  chose  to  help  eat.  The  great  majority 
looked  on  in  hungry  envy,  but  the  result  to  them  was  not  "very 
fillin'."  Still  we  were  not  starving  by  any  means,  and  all  sorts 
of  dishes  made  up  from  commissary  sources  and  from  the 
neighboring  country,  served  up  with  recollections  of  home, 
made  the  food  part  of  the  day  pass  pretty  well.  Some  boys 
bought  out  the  rights  of  others  and  had  their  birds  cooked  by 
the  officers'  servants.  Here  is  the  bill  of  fare  of  one  mess  got 
from  the  sutler,  and  the  cost  of  each  item:  1  quart  of  pickles, 
25  cents;  1  bottle  of  mustard,  50  cents;  20  cakes,  50  cents; 
J  pound  of  raisins,  25  cents;  these,  with  beef,  beef's  heart, 
hardtack  and  coffee  stayed  the  stomachs  in  blue  till  the  turkey 
came  at  nightfall  from  the  lieutenant's  cook.  As  it  is  the 
chronicler's  duty  to  record  bad  as  well  as  good  items,  it  must 
be  stated  that  whatever  lack  there  may  have  been  in  solid 
refreshment,  there  were  unlimited  quantities  of  liquids,  to  the 
extent  that  the  evening  brigade  dress-parade  was  said  to  have 
been  quite  a  spirited  affair. 

The  25th  and  26th  days  saw  considerable  parties  go  out  for 
forage.  They  are  obliged  to  go  quite  a  distance  from  camp, 


FROM  CEDAR  CREEK  TO  PETERSBURG. 


203 


twelve  miles  or  thereabouts,,  the  intervening  country  having 
been  so  thoroughly  scoured.  The  usual  plunder  is  found, 
though  frequently  the  best  items  are  hidden  in  the  woods.  One 
party  thus  comes  upon  a  quantity  of  honey  and  apple-butter. 
A  hive  of  bees  has  no  terror  for  the  adept  forager.  The  eleven 
wagons  are  brought  in,  well  loaded  with  all  sorts.  Still  we  are 
not  wholly  obdurate,  and  a  guard  is  placed  in  one  house  at  the 
owner's  solicitation,  and  at  another  the  effusive  gratitude  of 
the  mistress  thereof  is  blush-provoking  to  the  captain,  whose 
modesty  is  only  equaled  by  his  gallantry.  The  manner  of  cook 
ing  our  meat  was  not  the  home  way,  but  it  was  effectual. 


From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,''  by  permission. 

BROILING    STEAK. 

It  is  the  second  day's  trip  that  a  party  of  guerrillas  swoop 
down  on  a  squad  of  our  men,  largely  of  Company  B,  and  includ 
ing  Lieutenant  Fish's  colored  servant  Sam,  and  gather  them 
in.  After  relieving  the  soldiers  of  their  blue  uniforms,  and  leav 
ing  Confederate  gray  in  exchange,  they  made  off,  taking  Sam 
with  them,  a  fact  for  which  they  were  subsequently  sorry,  for 
the  "colored  gemmen"  succeeded  in  paying  them  off  by  getting 
them  all  into  the  Union  lines  only  two  days  later.  Perhaps 
the  loss  of  Surgeon  Sabin's  horse,  ridden  on  this  occasion  by  his 
orderly,  afforded  as  much  regret  as  any  part  of  the  event.  This 
same  raid  is  described  by  another,  who  says:  "The  rebels  set  out 
to  hang  the  colored  servant  at  once.  They  even  had  a  rope 


204  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

about  his  neck,  but  finally  concluded,  if  saved,  he  might  be  of 
some  service  to  them.  The  enemy  hung  around  so  closely  that 
foraging  was  risky,  but  two  boys  who  had  been  on  guard  de 
termined  not  to  return  to  camp  empty-handed.  So  they  went 
off  on  their  own  hook.  The  first  house  they  entered  had  three 
big  masculines,  presumably  rebels,  consequently  one  of  us  stood 
guard  while  the  other  ransacked,  finding  only  a  little  hoecake 
for  his  pains.  The  main  party  had  found  a  big  jar  of  butter, 
covered  by  a  brass  kettle,  hidden  in  the  top  of  a  fallen  tree, 
but  we  seemed  unlucky.  However,  on  leaving  the  house,  we 
saw  two  horses  feeding  in  a  field  near  some  woods.  We  debated 
whether  the  riders  might  not  be  near  by,  and  a  rolled  Union 
overcoat  was  on  one  saddle;  but  I  wasn't  going  back  to  camp 
with  nothing  to  show  for  my  trip,  so  I  just  went  in  and  took 
one  of  the  steeds.  When  T.  saw  I  was  not  molested  he  took  the 
other,  and  didn't  we  ride  back  to  camp  in  style!  for  the  horses 
were  no  old  plugs,  but  real  fine  young  beasts.  They  were 
mighty  useful,  too,  for  we  had  to  carry  water  some  distance; 
but  a  horse-load  of  canteens  just  helped  out  amazingly.  No 
trouble  in  getting  forage  for  them.  When  the  time  came  to 
break  camp  and  start  for  Washington,  I  just  'drew'  a  small 
open  wagon  and  loaded  in  no  end  of  traps  belonging  to  the 
boys  and  rode  to  the  station  kiting.  I  had  expected  to  turn 
the  equine  loose  when  through  with  him,  but  a  native  offered 
me  his  watch  for  the  whole  outfit.  I  jumped  at  the  trade,  and 
then  sold  the  time-keeper  for  $15.  T.  let  his  beast  run,  not  be 
ing  so  lucky  as  I  was.  I  wasn't  finding  any  fault  with  war 
just  then.  As  I  sat  on  the  top  of  the  car,  I  saw  some  of  the 
boys  holding  the  attention  of  a  sutler  in  front,  while  the  rest 
of  the  party  were  stealing  from  the  rear  all  they  could  reach." 
Is  there  any  wonder  that  sutler's  prices  were  high? 

Camp  routine,  dear  to  the  officers,  disliked  by  the  men,  fin 
ished  out  the  month  and  made  a  beginning  of  December,  though 
our  departure  is  evidently  at  hand,  since  the  1st  Division  left 
on  the  1st,  and  on  the  2d  came  the  orders  for  us  to  be  ready 
to  follow. 

Camp  is  broken  on  the  morning  of  the  3d,  and  we  march 
four  miles  beyond  Winchester,  where  we  take  the  cars  a  little 
before  noon.  Proceed  thence  to  Harper's  Ferry,  whence  we 
ride  as  the  exigencies  of  railway  service  will  permit  to  Wash 
ington,  getting  there  in  the  early  morning  of  the  4th.  Evident- 


FROM  CEDAR  CREEK  TO  PETERSBURG.  205 

ly  the  government  is  not  sending  us  on  a  pleasure  excursion, 
for  our  stay  in  the  Capital  is  very  brief,  only  long  enough  to 
get  down  to  Arsenal  dock  and  to  eat  our  breakfast.  The  trans 
port  Hermann  Livingston  is  in  waiting,  and  we  are  off  before 
noon.  Our  boat  is  a  rapid  one,  easily  passing  all  others.  Once 
more  we  are  afloat  and  passing  the  scenes  made  familiar  during 
the  preceding  two  years  and  more.  Here  at  our  right  is  Alex 
andria,  with  no  end  of  recollections  of  past  days  there,  and  at 
the  left  rises  Rozier's  bluff,  with  Fort  Foote  surmounted,  the 
product  of  our  hands.  Again  we  note  Mount  Vernon,  Fort 
Washington  and  Belle  Plain  Landing,  and  night  shuts  down 
upon  us  still  ploughing  our  way  towards  Petersburg  and 
Grant's  relentless  grasp.  At  daybreak  we  pass  from  the  Chesa 
peake  into  the  James,  seeing  Fortress  Monroe  at  our  right,  but 
we  do  not  stop,  steaming  by  the  several  vessels  bearing  other 
parts  of  our  division.  It  is  2  P.  M.  when  we  reach  City  Point, 
and  towards  night  we  land,  march  a  mile  or  so,  and  camp. 

It  is  about  sundown  on  the  6th  that  we  take  a  train  for  the 
front.  Our  return  is  quite  in  contrast  from  that  made  in  the 
dust  of  the  preceding  July,  en  route  to  our  summer  and  autum 
nal  quarters.  The  ride  is  soon  ended,  and  we  are  quickly  at 
Meade's  station,  where  we  alight,  and  under  direction  seek  the 
place  reserved  for  us.  Scarcely  more  than  half  as  many  men 
return  to  Petersburg  as  left  in  the  preceding  July.  The  months 
had  sadly  ravaged  our  ranks.  The  railroad  laid  by  Grant  for 
military  purposes  was  very  useful,  though  it  violated  nearly 
all  the  rules  of  railroad  engineering.  It  was  laid  on  the  surface 
of  the  ground  with  little  or  no  ballasting,  and  still  less  grad 
ing,  so  that  in  places  both  ends  of  a  train  might  be  visible 
while  the  middle  was  lost  in  an  intervening  valley.  The  sta 
tions  bore  the  names,  as  a  general  thing,  of  prominent  com 
manders,  and  were  as  liable  to  be  moved  as  those  soldiers  them 
selves. 


206 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


CHAPTER     XX. 

PETERSBURG  THROUGH  MARCH,  1865. 

Though  we  had  been  in  front  of  Petersburg  before,  there  is 
very  little  to  identify  our  surroundings.  We  march  past  the 
headquarters  of  General  Meade,  and  halting  near,  we  are  told, 
the  lines  held  by  the  5th  Corps,  we  lie  as  best  we  can  till  morn 
ing,  the  7th  of  December,  when  it  appears  we  have  relieved 
the  Maryland,  or  3d  Brigade,  2d  Division  of  the  5th  Corps,  and 


PETERSBURG  THROUGH  MARCH,  1865.  207 

have  fallen  heirs  to  their  winter  quarters.  If  for  a  few  mo 
ments  we  congratulate  ourselves  on  having  houses  ready  made, 
we  are  doomed  to  early  disappointment,  for  it  seemed  that 
these  structures  were  too  near  the  breastworks,  and  we  were 
ordered  to  tear  them  down,  and  move  back  100  feet,  so  that 
none  should  be  within  200  feet  of  the  works.  Of  course  this 
order  does  not  come  without  a  deal  of  turning  round,  having  to 
move  no  less  than  four  times.  We  are  at  the  extreme  left  of 
the  line,  and  as  our  orders  to  destroy  and  move  back  came 
late,  we  have  another  cold  night  under  the  open  sky. 

The  morning  of  the  8th  we  are  astir  early,  and  under  arms, 
for  the  2d  Battalion,  Companies  A,  C,  L  and  H,  with  K 
added,  is  ordered  to  Fort  Wadsworth,  five  or  six  rods  from 
Weldon  railroad,  and  very  near  the  famous  yellow  house, 
all  under  the  command  of  Major  William  Wood.  At 
the  right  there  is  heavy  picket-firing,  but  all  is  quiet 
in  our  immediate  front.  The  fort  has  four  Parrott  guns  and 
four  light  brass  twelve-pounders.  Those  who  did  not  go  to  the 
fort  had  to  get  behind  the  breastworks.  Water  froze  in  can 
teens,  and  at  least  one  man  claims  to  have  had  his  foot  frozen. 
It  is  evident  we  have  not  yet  reached  any  statu  quo  location, 
for  Company  L  moves  several  rods  away  from  the  fort,  and  the 
1st  and  3d  Battalions  are  off  with  the  rest  of  the  corps  to  help 
the  5th  and  2d  if  needed,  on  their  Southside  railroad  venture, 
in  direction  of  Stony  Creek. 

The  fort  is  to  be  garrisoned  each  night  by  twenty-five  men 
and  one  officer.  The  boys  who  remain  in  camp  and  are  still 
shelterless  work  on  new  quarters.  There  was  more  moving 
with  new  locations,  each  one,  if  possible,  being  worse  than  the 
last.  For  the  sake  of  exercise  (?),  there  was  a  double-quick 
march  to  brigade  headquarters.  For  a  rarity  soft  bread  was 
drawn.  To  crown  the  happenings  of  the  day  came  a  severe 
snow-storm.  Complaints  about  quarters  are  numerous,  and  the 
10th  records  nine  changes  of  position,  some  getting  back  to 
their  former  quarters,  or  where  they  had  been,  only  to  find 
everything  stripped,  chimneys  torn  down,  but  in  the  midst  of 
snow  and  sleet  the  snow  is  scraped  away,  the  water  is  bailed 
out,  and  camp  is  again  made. 

It  has  been  a  long  and  tedious  day.  We  were  under  arms  at 
5.15  A.  M.,  and  so  continued  till  after  sunrise.  Fully  three 
inches  of  snow  were  covering  us  when  we  awoke,  and  those 


208  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

who  lay  on  the  ground  through  the  night,  as  the  morning 
dawned,  saw  in  every  direction  little  snow-covered  mounds 
which  under  the  influence  of  the  bugle-blast  developed  "boys 
in  blue."  Some  thought  they  saw  reminders  of  Marshall  Ney's 
bivouacs  in  the  terrible  retreat,  though  some  of  the  French 
slept  ne'er  to  waken.  Our  boys  revived  speedily.  We  marched 
half  a  mile  and  formed  in  line;  there  was  brisk  skirmishing  in 
front,  and  for  a  time  it  seemed  as  though  there  was  business 
in  store  for  us.  However,  it  all  subsided,  and  we  move  back 
as  above.  Camp  in  a  mud-hole  on  the  llth,  and  what  a  time 
to  introduce  recruits  to  army  life,  but  they  came  and  had  to 
take  things  as  they  found  them. 

Work  on  winter-huts  is  brisk.  For  more  than  a  week  the  men 
have  the  privilege  of  trying  to  make  their  quarters  endurable, 
aside  from  the  regular  round  of  guard  and  garrison  duty.  It 
seemed  that  the  army  was  as  well  settled  as  it  could  be  under 
a  commander  who  never  rested.  "The  all  summer  line"  was 
extended  into  the  winter,  and  only  Omniscience  knew  how 
much  longer  it  might  continue.  All  that  the  Book  of  Fate 
revealed  was  the  page  before  us,  and  in  that  we  read  work  of 
some  kind  for  every  day.  There  were  fatigue,  drill,  parade  and 
the  ever-recurring  round  of  picket.  All  have  to  take  turns  in 
the  fort,  going  in  before  day  and  staying  till  after  sunrise. 
Then,  too,  there  is  guard-duty  every  other  night  from  9  to  1,  or 
from  1  to  daybreak.  December  18th  100  guns  are  fired  from 
Fort  Sedgwick*  in  honor  of  Thomas'  victory  at  Nashville. 
Our  foe  was  just  as  alert  as  ourselves,  and  stagnation  was  not 
one  of  our  lurking  dangers. 

In  making  our  quarters  as  comfortable  as  possible  all  sorts 
of  ingenious  devices  were  had.  Tin  cans  were  sought;  solder 
is  melted  therefrom,  that  with  the  pieces  eavestroughs  might 
be  made;  placed  with  the  proper  slant  they  were  effectual.  The 
weather  was  of  all  sorts :  extremes  of  cold,  followed  by  rain  and 
mud.  Seldom  was  the  physical  man  under  greater  strain,  yet 
it  must  have  been  harder  for  the  rebels  than  for  us,  since  the 
most  of  them  were  less  used  to  frigid  temperature  than  we. 

The  exigencies  which  governed  our  food  supply  no  man  can 
understand.  Here  if  anywhere  rations  should  be  regular  and 


*Fort  Sedgwick  was  generally  known  as  Fort  Hell,  and  its  opposite 
Confederate  fortification,  Fort  Mahone,  as  Fort  Damnation. 


PETERSBURG  THROUGH  MARCH,  1865.  209 

ample.  Foraging  was  out  of  the  question,  for  the  region  had 
become  a  Sahara,  but  hunger  was  a  frequent  sensation,  and 
when,  for  some  reason,  known  only  to  the  authorities,  the 
sutler  was  forbidden  to  sell  us  supplies,  what  was  there  left 
for  us  to  do  but  to  raid  him?  A  sutler  raid  has  a  distinct 
place  in  army  memories,  and  that  of  December  20th,  when  the 
2d  Battalion  went  in  for  something  to  eat,  was  a  busy  occasion. 
Of  course  profit  and  loss  compel  the  sutler  to  charge  still  higher 
prices  for  all  losses  thus  incurred.  It  did  seem  rather  hard 
for  the  much-abused  sutler  to  have  to  be  a  scapegoat  for  the 
commissary  department. 

It  has  a  gruesome  sound,  but  the  chief  diversion  of  the  latter 
part  of  1864  was  the  attending  of  hangings  in  the  vicinity. 
Disciplinary  rigor  had  advanced  till  death  for  desertion  was 
actually  inflicted.  Both  the  2d  and  5th  Corps  had  several  ex 
hibitions.  In  one  case  December  23d,  in  the  2d  Corps,  three 
men  who  had  gone  over  to  the  rebels  and  had  been  recaptured, 
stood  upon  the  same  trap  and  went  down  at  once.  It  was 
claimed  that  one  of  them  had  been  a  famous  bounty-jumper, 
having  gone  through  the  to  him  farce  of  enlistment  no  less 
than  sixteen  times.  Three  had  been  hanged  the  preceding  Fri 
day,  and  two  more  followed  the  next.  The  traditions  of  hang 
man's  day  were  preserved  even  in  war-time. 

Those  whose  rations  of  sugar  do  not  satisfy  have  to  pay  25 
cents  a  pound  at  the  sutler's.  Candles  to  help  shorten  the 
night  are  12J  cents  each.  Stationery  is  expensive,  too,  a  quire 
costing  40  cents  and  a  bunch  of  envelopes  the  same.  A  pair  of 
government  socks  wear  out  in  two  days.  The  news  of  Sher 
man's  capture  of  Savannah  made  the  boys  about  wild,  and  we 
shouted  till  we  were  hoarse,  the  wise  ones  being  sure  that  we 
should  be  home  for  July  4th. 

Christmas  comes  on  Sunday,  and  has  little  to  distinguish  it 
from  other  days.  Few  dainties  grace  our  tables,  but  hunger 
and  health  make  substantiate  taste  good.  A  major  writes: 
"Dine  on  pork,  potatoes,  bread  and  coffee,  good  enough  for  a 
king."  No  plum-pudding  or  roast  goose  in  that.  While  some 
play  seven-up  for  the  scant  stationery  given  by  the  Christian 
Commission,  there  are  those  who  piously  eschew  cards  and  take 
comfort  in  Beecher's  Sermons.  The  year  went  out  with  a  bang, 
for  as  if  to  compensate  for  long  inactivity,  the  Johnnies,  or 
several  hundred  picked  men  of  them,  move  on  our  picket-line 
14 


210  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

at  5.30  in  the  morning.  At  first  they  break  through,  but  we 
rally  quickly  and  drive  them  back.  Two  of  our  men  are  killed, 
and  twenty  or  more  are  captured.  Several  also  are  wounded. 

John  Colligan  of  Company  K,  whose  corporal's  chevrons  are 
almost  new  on  this  last  day  of  1864,  tells  the  story  of  that 
eventful  occasion.  "There  were  captured  with  me  Samuel  P. 
Gray,  Michael  McKnight,  Andrew  Jackson  and  Barney  Riley. 
We  were  taken  at  about  midnight,  when  it  was  as  dark  as 
pitch.  The  rebels  made  a  raid  in  force  on  our  picket-line.  It 
is  claimed  that  a  Wisconsin  company  broke  and  let  them 
through,  so  that  they  got  between  our  lines  and  the  camp. 
While  we  were  defending  in  front  they  assailed  our  rear.  I 
had  charge  of  a  post  with  seven  men,  having  been  on  duty  con 
tinuously  for  seventy-two  hours  with  no  relief.  After  capture 
we  were  marched  to  a  stockade  between  Petersburg  and  Wei- 
don  railroad,  where  we  were  searched  and  robbed  of  all  the 
valuables  we  had.  Then  we  wrere  taken  to  Petersburg,  kept 
in  hunger  and  cold  for  several  days,  and  thence  were  sent  to 
Libby  prison  in  Richmond,  where  we  suffered  all  sorts  of  pri 
vations.  After  several  days  in  Libby,  we  were  transferred  to 
Pemberton  prison,  also  in  Carey  street,  where  we  remained  till 
February  14th.  1865,  when  we  were  sent  down  the  James  river 
for  exchange,  getting  back  to  the  regiment  in  time  for  the  end." 

About  this  time  some  who  had  been  extremely  careful  of 
their  precious  selves  began  to  venture  back  to  the  regiment. 
The  sequel  showed  that  they  came  too  soon.  Colonel  Snyder 
goes  home  on  a  furlough. 

1865. 

During  January  the  Ninth  remains  in  quarters  as  in  Decem 
ber.  Forts  Keene,  Fisher  and  Wadsworth  seem  to  be  the 
nearest  fortifications.  Fifth  Corps  is  a  mile  back  of  us,  and 
the  Engineer  Corps  between.  On  the  left  of  our  corps  is  the 
2d,  and  the  9th  is  on  the  right.  Quarters  are  made  of  poles 
with  tent-coverings,  10x6  on  the  ground,  5  feet  high.  Weather 
varies  from  ice  cold  to  warm  sunshine.  On  the  6th  a  deserter 
from  the  4th  New  Jersey  in  the  1st  Division  is  shot. 

On  the  7th  of  January  our  division  commander,  General  Tru 
man  Seymour,  addressed  a  letter  to  the  corps  authorities  sug 
gesting  the  formation  of  a  3d  Brigade,  saying  there  were  4500 


PETERSBURG  THROUGH  MARCH,  1865. 


211 


men  in  the  division,  and  of  these  the  9th  New  York  had  1140 
enlisted  men.  He  would  make  a  brigade  of  this  and  one  of 
the  other  regiments.  Evidently  his  proposal  did  not  find  favor, 
for  nothing  more  was  heard  of  it.  Were  such  a  plan  ever  to 
have  been  consummated,  it  was  when  the  members  were  twice 
as  many.  At  any  rate  we  are  grateful  that  our  connective 
corps,  division  and  brigade  numerals  were  never  disturbed.  We 
went  to  the  front  practically  2000  strong,  had  received  five  or 
six  hundred  recruits,  and  yet  we  number  now  only  about  1200; 
thus  our  stay  in  active  service  had  cost  us  fully  as  many  men 
as  we  then  had.  January  9th  the  rebs  made  a  raid  on  the  2d 
Division,  but  are  repulsed.  During 
the  entire  month  there  is  a  steady  com 
ing  in  of  rebels  who  are  hungry,  and  iu 
many  cases  all  but  naked.  During  the 
month  a  large  number  of  men  wounded 
at  Cedar  Creek  reported  for  duty.  Al 
ternating  rain  and  frost  heave  the 
breastworks  so  that  in  some  places 
they  fall  in.  Consequent  repairing  fol 
lows.  New  abatis  are  made  and  old 
ones  repaired.  Boys  are  not  saints  by 
any  means.  Some  get  drunk,  thrash 
round,  and  then  pay  the  penalty  by 
guard-house  and  extra  duty.  These 
rolling  stones  gather  no  moss.  Some 
wore  wooden  overcoats,  like  this  in  the 
picture. 

The  country  in  front  is  not  exactly 
park-like  in  its  make-up.  In  some 
places  it  is  very  swampy,  but  duty  has 
to  be  done  just  the  same,  mud  or  dust. 
On  the  llth  at  4  A.  M.  a  vidette  fired 
his  gun,  and  at  once  the  whole  picket- 
line  deployed  as  skirmishers.  Result, 
four  badly  scared  Johnnies  came  in,  all 

intelligent  young  men,  but  poorly  clad  and  almost  barefooted. 
January  14th  David  H.  Stone  of  Company  F,  who  had  just 
been  promoted  to  second  lieutenant,  was  accidentally  killed 
by  the  discharge  of  a  revolver  in  the  hands  of  one  of  his  friends. 
The  bodv  was  sent  home  for  burial.  A  friend  writes :  "Lieuten- 


From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 


212 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


ant  Stone  had  but  recently  received  his  commission,  and  had 
just  been  detailed  as  an  aid  on  the  staff  of  Major  General 
Wright,  and  was  to  report  the  next  morning  for  duty.  He  had 
been  out  all  day  on  duty  and  had  come  to  his  quarters  at  night, 
and  was  seated  at  his  camp-table  eating  his  supper.  During 
the  day  a  deserter  had  been  returned  to  the  company,  and  L. 
H.  Bigelow,  then  1st  sergeant  of  the  company,  had  taken  a 
revolver  from  the  returned  prisoner;  the  revolver  was  of  un 
usual  pattern,  and  Bigelow  was  exhibiting  it  to  Lieutenant 
Stone,  and  explaining  its  mechanism,  when  in  handling  it,  it 
was  discharged,  and  the  bullet  entered  the  body  of  the  lieu- 


From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 

WINTER  QUARTERS,   OUTSIDE. 

tenant,  producing  a  fatal  wound.  He  was  taken  at  once  to 
the  field  hospital,  and  died  during  the  night.  This  was  in  front 
of  Petersburg.  Lieutenant  David  Stone  was  one  of  God's  noble 
men,  a  Christian,  a  gentleman,  and  every  inch  a  brave,  noble 
soldier.  His  memory  is  cherished  and  held  sacred  by  every 
member  of  the  company,  and  many  of  the  men  in  Company  F 
owe  much  of  their  success  in  life  to  the  noble  and  pure  influ 
ence  of  the  life  of  David  Stone.  He  left  a  true,  loyal-hearted 
wife,  and  a  sweet  baby  daughter,  in  the  city  of  Auburn,  N.  Y.'* 
January  17th  100  guns  for  General  Terry's  victory  at  Wil- 


PETERSBURG  THROUGH  MARCH,  1865. 


213 


mington,  N.  C.;  capture  of  Fort  Fisher.  January  18th  at  5  P. 
M.  100  Company  I  men  with  Lieutenant  Yard  made  new  abatis 
in  front  of  works;  have  to  carry  brush  a  mile  through  a  swamp 
sometimes  knee-deep.  Some  fear  General  Seymour  will  run 
the  Ninth  into  the  ground.  By  the  end  of  the  month,  the  men 
were  in  comfortable  quarters,  10x7  and  5  feet  high,  shelter- 
tents  for  roof,  fireplaces  and  stick  chimney;  burn  pitch  pine 
four  feet  in  length.  Lieutenant  -  —  thus  describes  his 
cabin :  "I  got  straight  pine  logs,  eight  to  ten  inches  through,  and 
six  feet  long,  split  them,  dug  a  trench  six  inches  deep;  set 


From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 

WINTER  QUARTERS,   INSIDE. 

them  up  endways,  stockade  fashion,  close,  flat  side  in.  Hut 
ten  feet  long,  eight  feet  wide,  gable  with  slope,  plastered  cracks 
with  mud;  said  mud  was  easily  made  by  digging  a  small  hole 
in  the  ground,  pouring  in  a  pail  of  water  and  then  stirring  in 
the  clay  just  thrown  out.  It  was  easily  daubed  with  a  stick. 
If  rain  washed  it  out,  why,  just  stir  up  and  daub  again.  It  was 
covered  with  shelter-tents,  no  window  needed;  light  enough 
from  above;  bed  in  one  end  and  made  of  pine  boughs;  wood 
to  burn  under  the  bed;  door  approach  made  of  hardtack  boxes. 


214  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Fireplace  was  one  side,  table  opposite  also  made  of  boxes. 
Wooden  pegs  for  hanging  things;  bookcase  over  table,  floor  of 
split  logs." 

It  was  towards  the  end  of  the  month  that  General  Grant 
ordered  that  no  newspapers  should  be  allowed  to  come  into  the 
army  for  one  week.  He  must  have  been  afraid  of  picket  ex 
change,  not  caring  to  have  the  enemy  know  his  plans. 

February  1st.  It  is  scarcely  past  midnight  when  orders  come 
to  get  up,  pack  up,  and  be  ready  to  march  at  any  moment.  Five 
days'  rations  are  drawn,  and  all  the  fuss  terminates  in  a  bri 
gade  dress-parade  at  3  P.  M.  All  sorts  of  rumors  are  circulated 
as  to  the  reasons  for  such  unseemly  hours,  one  of  which  was 
that  we  were  to  join  the  5th  Corps  in  a  raid  to  the  Southside 
railroad,  twenty-five  miles  to  the  point  we  were  to  strike.  A 
soldier  in  L,  helping  to  repair  Fort  Wadsworth  on  the  2d,  re 
marks  on  the  numerous  graves,  many  bodies  being  near  the 
surface.  The  rain  washes  out  the  head  of  a  man.  Says  the 
company  shanties  are  built  over  some  of  them.  Rather  a  hard 
place  for  nervous  and  superstitious  men! 

He  records  that  Wednesday's  early  rising  was  incident  to  a 
sudden  move  of  the  enemy  on  our  right.  Learned  from  one 
of  the  rebels  on  picket  that  peace  is  in  sight.  On  the  5th 
marching  orders  received  again,  and  we  see  the  5th  Corps  pass 
ing  by  all  the  morning.  The  1st  Division  of  the  6th  started  at 
4  P.  M.  There  has  been  heavy  firing  all  day,  and  many  wounded 
from  the  5th  Corps  are  brought  in.  We  do  not  get  away  till 
nearly  midnight,  when  we  march  two  or  three  miles  to  the  right 
and  remain  in  line  till  5  A.  M. ;  then  we  unbend  till  5  P.  M., 
when  we  return  to  the  camp  of  the  23d  Pennsylvania  of  our 
1st  Division.  We  stack  guns,  and  some  of  our  comrades  are 
permitted  to  go  into  tents  with  the  Pennsylvania  boys.  Kain 
and  snow  on  the  17th.  The  next  day  returned  to  the  old  camp, 
but  not  for  any  quiet,  for  we  were  hardly  in  place  before  we 
were  ordered  out,  then  directed  to  make  ourselves  comfortable 
till  morning.  Sure  enough  on  the  9th  at  daylight  we  march 
away  to  the  lines  held  on  our  left  by  the  2d  Corps,  1st  Division, 
these  men  having  gone  still  further  to  the  left. 

We  arrive  in  time  to  see  the  departing  soldiers  demolish 
their  quarters.  We  lie  around  all  day,  and  camp  on  the  ground 
in  the  deserted  place.  The  10th  beholds  us  reconstructing 
quarters  where  the  2d  Corps  had  been,  and  for  the  next  four 


PETERSBURG  THROUGH  MARCH,  1865.  215 

days  we  work  on  the  quarters.  Pickets  and  videttes  are  very 
near  each  other,  and  trading  of  tobacco  for  coffee  is  a  very 
common  thing.  The  Johnnies  proclaimed  themselves  half 
starved.  So  amicable  are  the  relations  that  rebs  and  Feds  cut 
wood  from  the  same  log.  Company  L  was  detached  from  the 
regiment  and  sent  to  Battery  Lee,  three-quarters  of  a  mile  from 
Fort  Fisher,  on  the  10th.  In  the  evening  went  to  Patrick's 
station  for  the  guns,  six  thirty-pound  Parrotts;  they  having 
come  on  platform  cars.  It  took  ten  horses  to  draw  the  guns  to 
the  fort.  Got  them  up  at  3  P.  M.  There  were  also  six  Cohorn 
mortars  just  back  of  the  picket-line.  Ten  rebels  came  in  to 
day.  On  the  12th,  thirty-six  rebels,  including  one  orderly  ser 
geant,  came  in. 

Here  is  a  graphic  description  of  the  way  red  tape,  routine 
and  military  management  succeeded  in  getting  a  little  fatigue 
duty  done:  "At  daylight  we  were  drawn  into  line,  right-dressed 
and  counted  in  the  company  street.  We  stand  here  half  an 
hour,  and  then  march  to  regimental  headquarters.  The  fore 
going  is  repeated  here,  and  then  wre  are  marched  to  brigade 
headquarters  and  again  repeat.  Our  next  act  is  to  move  a  little 
distance  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  the  pickets,  who  are  getting 
ready  to  march  out.  After  waiting  an  hour  and  a  half,  we  go 
through  right-dressing  and  counting  once  more.  Thence  we 
march  to  the  fort  and  repeat  the  familiar  performance.  Finally 
we  enter  the  fort  and  get  the  tools  to  work  with.  Such  is  the 
usual  round." 

Our  chronicler  was  evidently  in  a  grumbling  humor,  for  he 
continues,  "Although  military  tactics  and  everything  connected 
therewith  are  supposed  to  be  conducted  with  scientific  pre 
cision,  yet  in  maneuvering,  there  is  the  greatest  awkwardness; 
in  engineering,  the  greatest  bungling;  in  regard  to  the  ex 
penses,  there  is  in  every  department  the  greatest  extravagance 
and  waste;  the  strength  and  patience  of  the  men  are  wasted 
in  useless  marching  and  countermarching;  their  time  squan 
dered  by  keeping  them  out,  from  daylight  till  dark  in  all  sorts 
of  weather,  to  do  two  hours'  work,  and  then  they  sleep  on  the 
frozen  ground  in  midwinter;  by  employing  them,  day  after  day, 
in  building  ornamental  fences  and  screens  around  officers' 
quarters;  in  maneuvering  them  in  brigade  drills  and  dress- 
parades,  neither  of  which  is  of  any  use  on  the  battle-field,  and 
then  at  night,  they  have  to  get  down  on  their  knees  and  creep 


216  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

under  three  square  yards  of  cotton  sheeting,  and  lie  or  sit  the 
long  dark  night  on  the  cold  ground." 

The  llth  there  was  a  flag  of  truce,  and  Yankee  curiosity  was 
naturally  piqued,  but  they  must  wait  for  Northern  papers  to 
learn  the  reason,  though  it  was  less  than  half  a  mile  away. 
The  next  day  General  Meade  and  staff  rode  by  Battery  Lee, 
where  engineers  are  putting  in  a  bomb-proof.  Another  flag  of 
truce  explains  itself.  The  rebels  want  to  know  what  became 
of  one  of  their  colonels  wounded  at  Hatcher's  Run.  He  is  in 
hospital,  City  Point.  Ninety  deserters  came  in  to-day. 

Rebel  pickets  are  500  yards  away  from  the  fort.  Desertion 
from  the  enemy  is  the  rule,  and  the  half-starved  men  are  evi 
dently  much  discouraged.  The  same  is  true  all  along  the  line. 
They  are  glad  to  change  from  their  rations  of  one  pound  of 
corn  bread  and  one-quarter  pound  of  bacon  per  day  to  our 
larger  and  better  bill  of  fare.  The  dog  express  will  ever  be 
memorable  in  this  winter's  annals,  since  a  certain  canine  of 
strictly  impartial  sentiments  had  been  taught  to  respond  to  a 
whistle  from  either  side.  Thus  with  a  can  of  coffee  suspended 
from  his  neck  he  would  amble  over  to  the  Johnnies,  and  when 
they  had  replaced  coffee  with  tobacco  he  would  return  in 
obedience  to  Union  signals,  intent  only  on  the  food  reward  both 
sides  gave  him.  Perhaps  it  was  the  following  order  included 
in  one  consignment  of  coffee  which  brought  in  the  mules  and 
wagon  and  many  deserters  with  their  entire  outfit: 

Headquarters,  Army  of  the  U.  S. 

In  the  field,  Jan.  4,  1865. 
Special  Order  No.  3: 

Deserters  coming  in  will  be  sent  to  their  homes  or  to  any  part 
of  the  Northern  states  on  taking  the  oath,  or  will  be  employed 
in  commissary  or  quartermaster  departments.  Horses  and 
mules  will  be  paid  for. 

U.  S.  GRANT,  General. 

A  lieutenant  coming  in  with  ten  men  excused  the  absence 
of  his  1st  sergeant,  who,  having  just  received  $600  in  Confed 
erate  money,  wanted  to  get  rid  of  it,  but  he  would  come  the  next 
time  he  was  on  guard.  A  captain  when  asked  why  he  came 
replied  that  it  was  about  mustering  time,  and  as  all  his  men 
had  deserted,  he  thought  he  had  better  come  over  and  muster 
them.  General  Lee  is  confidently  expected  soon.  So  many  cap 
tives  are  held  that  the  rear  line  of  forts  is  devoted  to  them. 
Train-loads  are  sent  to  City  Point.  One  writer  describes  the 


-?» 


'  - 


3tt 


PETERSBURG  THROUGH  MARCH,  1865.  217 

prisoners  as  "barefooted  and  ragged;  the  awfullest  looking 
men  one  ever  saw.  They  say  the  whole  rebel  army  is  in  the 
same  condition,  and  that  all  would  come  if  they  had  the 
chance."  Guards  are  sent  out  with  the  rebels  when  they  go 
out  to  cut  wood  lest  they  desert  to  our  side.  On  the  night  of 
the  24th  eleven  men  came  in  with  a  six-mule  wagon,  which  had 
been  sent  out  for  fuel.  It  found  its  way  to  Meade's  head 
quarters  instead  of  that  of  the  enemy.  So  frequent  have  deser 
tions  become  that  the  rebels  have  forbidden  further  trading. 

February  21st,  100  guns  for  the  fall  of  Charleston.  Generals 
Wright  and  Seymour  reviewed  the  division  on  the  22d,  and  the 
guns  were  fired  in  honor  of  Washington's  birthday. 

February  24th,  100  guns  for  the  fall  of  Fort  Anderson,  N.  C. 

In  the  regiment  itself  there  was  not  a  graduate  of  West 
Point,  nor  had  we  in  active  service  such  a  one,  but  our  Division 
Commanders  Ricketts  and  General  Truman  Seymour*  were 
from  the  Point;  of  the  former  no  soldier  ever  had  aught  but 
words  of  praise;  the  latter  was  a  martinet  of  the  most  pro 
nounced  character.  He  had  not  won  particular  honors  in  the 
war,  though  he  had  served  in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  South 
Carolina,  Florida,  and  was  after  Ricketts'  wounding  at  Cedar 
Creek  with  us. 

His  proper  place  was  the  command  of  a  military  school,  or  that 
of  a  post  in  times  of  peace.  On  the  last  day  of  February  he 
rode  through  the  lines,  and  in  passing  our  regiment  his  eagle 
eye  chanced  to  rest  on  a  light-colored  hat  worn  by  one  of  our 
boys;  the  traditional  red  rag  could  not  have  been  more  excit 
ing  to  the  bovine  beholder  than  this  object  was  to  his  military 
sight.  He  returned  to  his  headquarters  two  miles  away,  and 
thence  despatches  an  orderly  to  our  colonel  with  the  most 
stringent  orders  against  further  infraction  of  discipline  under 
severe  penalties.  He  had  already  ordered  the  arrest  of  every 
man  who  should  shout  "hardtack,"  as  men  sometimes  did  when 


*Truman  Seymour,  born  Burlington,  Vt.,  September  25th,  1824; 
West  Point,  class  of  1846;  was  in  Mexican  War;  taught  drawing  in 
Military  Academy  1850- '53;  was  in  the  Seminole  War  in  Florida,  and 
assisted  in  defense  of  Fort  Sumter  in  1861;  as  stated  he  served  in  sev 
eral  departments  during  the  war;  was  captured  in  the  Wilderness  and 
came  back  in  time  to  succeed  General  Ricketts.  He  was  retired  from 
active  service  in  1876,  living  thereafter  abroad  till  his  death,  which 
took  place,  October  31st,  1891,  in  Florence,  Italy. 


218  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

short  of  rations.  Also  lie  had  directed  the  reduction  to  the 
ranks  of  every  non-commissioned  officer  who  should  appear  on 
parade  without  his  chevrons,  though  he  very  well  knew  there 
was  no  material  in  camp  for  the  making  of  them.  Obedience 
was  secured  by  our  fishing  some  old  red  flannel,  somebody's 
cast-off  underwear,  out  of  the  mud,  and  improvising  the  thin 

red  lines.  Corporal  S ,  as  he  sewed  the  distinguishing  stripes 

along  the  legs  of  his  trousers,  declared  he  had  never  realized 
before  how  long  those  same  legs  were  nor  the  number  of 
stitches  required.  However  deft  his  hands  in  managing  the 
great  guns,  evidently  his  fingers  were  not  adapted  to  so  small 
a  weapon  as  a  needle.  Again  caps  must  be  worn,  though  many 
had  good  serviceable  and  warm  felt  hats.  Shoes  must  be  worn, 
though  we  have  in  many  cases  more  expensive  and  certainly 
more  comfortable  boots.  There  was  fun,  too,  though  at  times 
somewhat  questionable  perhaps,  as  when  one  young  man  had 
a  freak  of  dressing  up  in  woman's  attire.  The  uproar  he  created 
was  more  creditable  to  his  disguise  than  to  the  character  of 
his  comrades. 

March  in  its  beginning  offered  very  little  change  from  Feb 
ruary,  though  we  knew  that  spring  would  mean  active  work 
for  us,  just  as  much  as  though  we  had  been  at  home  on  the 
farm,  where  even  General  Seymour  wouldn't  care  whether  we 
wore  boots  or  shoes,  or  went  barefoot.  The  general  flight  of 
the  enemy  to  our  lines  continued,  and  if  we  had  been  content 
to  remain  long  enough,  we  might  have  received  them  all  with 
out  the  firing  of  a  gun.  They  came  singly,  in  squads,  and  some 
times  it  would  seem  in  companies.  One  entire  picket-post  ran 
in,  leaving  only  the  lieutenant,  and  as  he  had  no  gun  he  could 
not  fire  on  deserting  comrades.  Soldiers  are  generous  always, 
and  on  the  3d  Company  B  gave  $80  for  a  sword  to  Sergeant 
Hoag,  who  had  been  promoted  2d  lieutenant,  and  during  the 
month  the  men  subscribed  liberally  to  a  monument  for  General 
Sedgwick,  though  the  gallant  officer  had  lost  his  life  before 
we  joined  the  corps.  On  the  same  day  a  private  gave  a  dollar 
and  a  half  for  a  diary  that  at  home  might  have  cost  fifty  cents. 

The  7th  brought  a  brigade  review  by  General  Meade,  with 
General  Keifer  accompanying.  March  9th  General  Meade  and 
staff  rode  along  the  lines.  Evidently  the  commanding  general 
intended  to  leave  nothing  to  chance.  Again  on  the  10th  came 
a  brigade  review;  possibly  this  was  for  the  edification  of  sev- 


PETERSBURG  THROUGH  MARCH,  1865.  219 

eral  carriage  loads  of  ladies.  For  half  an  hour  some  soldiers 
stood  in  mud  and  water  over  their  shoes,  and  they  hoped  the 
pleasure  imparted  was  commensurate.  The  next  day  at  divi 
sion  headquarters,  one  Kelly  of  the  67th  Pennsylvania  was  shot 
for  desertion.  It  was  said  that  he  had  deserted  twice  and  had 
jumped  seven  bounties.  A  priest  administered  to  him  the  con 
solation  of  religion.  A  squad  of  eight  men  fired,  and  seven  balls 
pierced  his  breast  within  a  three-inch  space.  The  brigade  band 
played  a  dirge.  While  the  affair  was  hardly  diverting,  it  was 
instructive.  General  Meade  witnesses  brigade  dress-parade  on 
the  12th.  About  this  time  Captain  Freeoff,  who  had  been  with 
Company  M  so  long,  came  back  to  command  his  old  associates 
in  I,  and  his  boys  made  him  happy  by  the  gift  of  new  shoulder- 
straps. 

A  flag  of  truce  on  the  13th.  Sutler  ordered  to  City  Point  the 
next  day,  with  his  goods;  evidently  the  authorities  want  all  non- 
combatants  out  of  the  way.  Marching  orders  are  received.  In 
the  forts  there  are  great  activity  and  alertness.  March  15th 
Corwin's  Battery  relieved  in  Fort  Welch.  Dress-parade  the 
16th  is  broken  up  by  a  sand-storm;  then  followed  rain.  The 
18th  General  Keifer  issues  stringent  orders  as  to  "lights  out," 
and  on  the  same  day,  Brigadier  General  Nelson  S.  Miles  of  the 
2d  Corps,  who  will  command  the  United  States  Army  in  1899, 
came  out  to  the  picket-line  with  a  citizen  visitor,  desiring  to 
show  him  how  the  work  was  done.  They  were  intending  to 
move  along  the  entire  picket-line,  but  the  citizen,  scared  nearly 
out  of  his  wits,  declared  he  had  gone  far  enough. 

The  crowing  of  a  rooster  always  brings  visions  of  the  barn 
yard,  but  here  in  camp  amidst  the  scenes  of  war  the  boys 
of  the  126th  Ohio  in  our  brigade  have  trained  a  chanticleer  to 
crow  lustily,  and  to  whip  any  dog  the  other  regiments  can  bring 
along.  How  he  does  strut  and  crow  after  such  a  victory!  A 
rebel  officer  on  the  19th  declared  he  would  shoot  any  Yankee 
who  offered  to  trade  papers.  With  him  ignorance  of  war  news 
was  bliss.  The  24th  one  of  our  battalions  goes  over  to  the  2d 
Corps  to  help  man  the  works,  while  the  latter  has  a  review  by 
President  Lincoln.  To  add  to  our  discontent  high  winds  fan 
forest  fires.  The  25th  ushers  in  the  advance  movement  to  end 
only  at  Appomattox.  There  is  general  activity  all  along  the 
front,  charges  and  countercharges.  Fort  Steadman  was  taken 
from  the  9th  Corps  at  4  A.  M.,  but  is  speedily  regained;  one  of 


220  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

the  prominent  engagements  of  the  war.  The  2d  Corps  also 
moves  up. 

At  noon  two  regiments  lay  off  knapsacks  and  form  in  front 
of  Battery  Lee  and  charge  on  the  rebel  pickets.  They  were 
driven  back,  as  they  found  the  enemy  in  force.  With  two  more 
regiments,  and  our  1st  Battalion,  Companies  B,  D,  G  and  I,  a 
second  and  successful  charge  was  made.  The  Ninth's  men  were 
the  first  to  reach  the  works  and  200  rebels  were  captured,  we 
having  a  large  number  wounded.  Meantime  the  Confederates 
opened  their  batteries  on  the  lines  as  they  were  forming,  and 
from  Battery  Lee  answer  was  made  from  the  thirty-pound  Par- 
rotts,  and  it  was  kept  up  all  the  afternoon,  driving  the  enemy 
from  every  fort  they  occupied.  One  Company  L  gunner  dis 
mantled  the  rebel  guns,  blew  up  a  caisson,  knocked  a  house  to 
pieces,  and  kept  two  batteries  still  all  the  time.  His  work  won 
the  unqualified  admiration  of  Generals  Wright  and  Seymour, 
who  were  looking  on  from  Fort  Fisher.  They  declared  there 
was  nothing  better  along  the  lines.  One  rebel  shell  entered 
our  parapet  and  three  or  four  went  over,  but  no  one  was  hurt. 
One  hundred  and  seventy-four  rounds  were  fired.  The  26th,  a 
boy  writes  home:  "It  is  nothing  but  fun,  fighting  with  artillery 
the  way  we  did.  I  suppose  you  think  the  noise  is  something, 
but  we  don't  notice  it,  and  we  all  stand  within  seven  feet  of  the 
thirty-pound  Parrotts."  There  is  no  let-up;  continue  firing  all 
day.  One  of  the  finest  houses  in  the  South  is  burned  because 
the  rebels  would  occupy  it  with  their  men  and  then  they  com 
plained  because  we  destroyed  it. 

The  official  report  of  General  Keifer  is  as  the  foregoing, 
though  he  says:  "This  brigade,  save  the  138th  Pennsylvania, 
occupied  the  line  of  works  including  Forts  Fisher,  Welsh  and 
Gregg,  and  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  enemy's  forti 
fications.  The  enemy's  picket-line  was  strongly  entrenched, 
and  manned  by  an  unusually  large  number  of  men."  He  further 
states  that  "the  first  regiments  advancing  are  the  110th  and  the 
122d  Ohio.  When  the  second  advance  is  made,  the  67th  Pennsyl 
vania,  6th  Maryland,  126th  Ohio  and  one  battalion  of  the  Ninth 
are  in  line  and  go  forward  under  a  heavy  fire.  This  they  do 
at  3  P.  M.  and  without  halting  to  fire.  More  than  200  prisoners 
are  taken. 

"Notwithstanding  a  heavy  fire  from  the  enemy's  guns  cou- 
centrated  on  the  troops,  the  captured  line  was  held.  It  subse- 


PETERSBURG  THROUGH  MARCH,  1865.  221 

quently  proved  to  be  of  great  benefit  to  the  corps  by  enabling 
troops  to  be  formed  behind  it  for  an  assault  upon  the  enemy's 
works."  In  favors  bestowed  he  mentions  approvingly  the 
leadership  of  Colonel  Snyder. 

Colonel  Snyder's  report  is  particularly  interesting,  setting 
forth  the  part  borne  by  the  entire  regiment. 

"Two  battalions  of  the  regiment  were  sent  into  Fort  Fisher 
to  repel  any  attack  in  case  we  should  be  driven  back  into 
our  main  works.  The  other  battalion  (1st)  was  formed  in 
rear  of  our  picket-line.  We  advance  in  good  order  under  a 
heavy  fire  of  musketry  to  our  picket-line,  where  we  halted 
for  about  thirty  minutes,  when  at  a  given  signal  we 
crossed  a  deep  marsh  or  swamp.  The  battalion  oc 
cupying  the  extreme  left  of  the  line,  being  somewhat 
farther  from  the  enemy's  line  than  the  other  portion  of  the  line, 
did  not  reach  as  soon  as  the  other  parts,  but  we  were  not  far 
behind,  capturing  the  rebel  pickets  in  our  front. 

"Sergeant  Cornelius  Flannery,  Company  I,  particularly  dis 
tinguished  himself  in  the  assault  by  his  bravery;  Captains 
Chauncey  Fish  and  Henry  J.  Ehodes  (the  latter  having  been 
wounded,  but  would  not  leave  the  field)  deserve  great  credit 
for  their  gallantry,  and  for  their  exertions  in  urging  the  men 
forward  to  the  assault." 

On  the  next  day,  the  26th,  "two  Confederate  officers  came 
directly  towards  our  regiment  waving  a  white  flag.  The  order 
to  cease  firing  was  passed  along  the  line.  All  the  men,  both 
Federal  and  Confederate,  climbed  upon  their  respective  breast 
works  and  stood  watching  the  two  parties  going  to  meet  each 
other  between  the  lines.  Just  when  the  parties  were  about  to 
meet,  two  Confederate  videttes  fired  into  our  men  from  a  pit 
directly  in  front.  One  bullet  struck  Corporal  Willard  Rand 
of  Company  G  in  the  right  arm,  passed  through  it  and  through 
his  body  and  lodged  against  the  skin  on  the  left  side  near  the 
heart,  killing  him  instantly.  Immediately  every  man  was  be 
hind  the  works  with  rifle  in  hand,  ready  to  avenge  the  dastard 
ly  murdering  of  his  comrade,  but  the  prompt  and  vigorous 
action  of  the  officers  prevented  the  slaughter  of  every  man 
between  the  lines. 

"Rand's  body  was  carried  to  the  rear  in  an  ambulance  and 
was  buried  by  Chaplain  Devoe  and  John  H.  Devoe.  The  full 
details  of  his  death  and  a  short  biography  of  his  life  were 


222  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

written,  placed  in  a  glass  bottle,  and  buried  at  his  head.    Rand 
was  a  noble  fellow  beloved  by  every  man  in  the  company." 

The  opposing  lines  are  very  near  each  other.  March  27th 
the  long  roll  was  beat  at  4.30  A.  M.,  for  the  enemy  made  val 
iant  efforts  to  retake  our  picket-lines,  but  failed,  this  particu 
larly  before  the  2d  Division.  Then  came  a  flag  of  truce  and 
agreement  to  cease  picket-firing.  For  some  reason  the  heavy 
guns  of  Fort  Lee  are  sent  to  City  Point,  and  Quaker  or  wooden 
guns  take  their  places.  No  guns  are  left  in  the  battery.  The 
29th,  heavy  firing  on  our  left  indicates  trouble  in  front  of  the 
5th  Corps,  and  the  Johnnies  make  unsuccessful  efforts  to  take 
Fort  Stedman  again,  but  they  make  nothing.  The  30th  sees 
a  continuance  of  yesterday's  firing,  though  the  rain  falls  in  tor 
rents.  Musketry  and  cannon  drown  even  the  waterfall,  and 
kept  everyone  along  the  line  on  the  qui  vive.  Everyone  is 
packed  up  and  ready  to  move  at  the  wrord.  The  expected  charge 
was  not  made,  prevented  in  part  by  the  rain,  but  more  especial 
ly  by  information  imparted  by  some  sneaking  deserter  from  our 
side,  at  least  this  is  the  statement  by  rebel  deserters.  At  4  P. 
M.  we  pitch  our  tents  again. 


From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 


BREAKING   THE  LINES,  AND  SAILOR'S  CREEK. 


223 


CHAPTER     XXI. 
BREAKING  THE  LINES  AND  SAILOR'S  CREEK. 

April  1st.  Peach-trees  inside  the  rebel  lines  are  in  blossom; 
trees  of  all  sorts  about  us  have  been  cut  off  entirely.  Peach- 
trees  are  more  common  here  than  apple-trees  in  the  North.  It 
is  no  All  Fools'  day  with  us,  though  the  foe  does  not  reply  to 
our  artillery  challenge  at  8  P.  M.;  firing  is  so  common  that 
unless  it  comes  in  volleys,  we  give  little  heed.  Deserters  say 
the  forts  in  front  of  us  are  being  filled  with  cannon. 

The  2d  is  the  day  of  the  great  ad 
vance.  Just  before  day  the  6th 
Corps  charges  the  rebel  lines  and 
carries  everything  before  it.  The 
enemy's  guns  are  turned  upon  them 
and  their  men  are  captured  by  the 
hundreds.  Two  miles  of  works  are 
taken  by  the  6th  Corps  unaided. 
Fort  after  fort  falls  into  our  hands, 
and  the  way  is  cleared  to  Petersburg, 
though  the  foe  makes  stubborn  re 
sistance,  and  surrenders  only  as 
driven  to  it.  One  youngster  scan 
dalized  his  officers  by  donning  rebel 
clothing  which  was  found  in  pass 
ing  through  the  works;  but  it  was 
fun,  though  brief,  for  he  was  quick 
ly  compelled  to  shed  his  trophies. 
General  A.  P.  Hill,  one  of  the  best 
Confederate  generals,  loses  his  life 

On   tlllS   day.  From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 

The  part  taken  by  our  particular 

portion  of  the  corps  is  best  told  in  the  report  of  General  Keifer 
as  follows: 

Previous  to  the  2d  inst.,  my  command,  with  the  exception 
of  the  138th  Pennsylvania,  occupied  the  line  of  works  from 
Fort  Fisher  to  Fort  Gregg,  inclusive  of  the  forts  named;  and 
also  Fort  Welch,  which  was  about  the  centre  of  my  brigade.  .  . 

The  brigade  was  formed  for  the  assault  to  the  front  and  left 
of  Fort  Welch,  about  3  A.  M.,  in  three  lines  of  battle,  with  the 


224  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

right  resting  on  an  almost  impassable  swamp  and  ravine,  which 
separated  it  from  the  left  of  the  2d  Division,  6th  Army  Corps. 
The  1st  Brigade,  3d  Division,  was  formed  on  the  left  of  my 
brigade.  The  brigade  was  formed  just  in  rear  of  the  old  in 
trenched  picket-line  of  the  enemy,  which  had  been  taken  from 
him  on  the  25th  ult. 

Much  difficulty  was  experienced  in  getting  the  troops  formed, 
in  consequence  of  the  darkness  and  the  deep  swamp  to  be 
passed  through,  and  also  a  severe  and  annoying  fire  of  the 
enemy.  A  number  of  men  were  killed  and  a  number  of  officers 
and  men  were  wounded  during  the  formation  of  the  troops; 
notwithstanding  which  the  troops  preserved  good  order  and 
remained  cool  and  steady. 

The  110th  and  126th  Ohio  and  6th  Maryland  Regiments  were 
formed  in  the  front  line  from  right  to  left  in  the  order  named. 
The  9th  New  York  Heavy  Artillery  constituted  the  second 
line  and  the  122d  Ohio,  the  138th  and  67th  Pennsylvania  Regi 
ments  were  formed  in  the  rear  line  from  right  to  left  in  the 
order  named. 

The  signal  to  assault  the  enemy's  works  was  given  by  direc 
tion  of  Major  General  Wright  at  precisely  4  (General  Wright 
says  4.40)  A.  M.  by  discharging  a  piece  of  artillery  at  Fort 
Fisher.*  Immediately  after  the  signal  was  given,  the  troops  in 
the  front  line  moved  forward  upon  the  enemy's  outer  works, 
which  were  held  by  a  strong  line  of  pickets,  and  captured  them; 
and  without  halting  or  discharging  a  piece,  although  receiving 
a  heavy  fire,  the  whole  command  moved  upon  the  main  works. 
Not  even  a  temporary  check  transpired  in  passing  through  and 
over  the  double  line  of  abatis,  ditch  and  strong  breastworks. 
A  hand-to-hand  fight  ensued  within  the  main  works,  in  which 
many  gallant  officers  and  men  were  killed  and  wounded.  The 
rebels  in  our  front  were  soon  killed,  wounded,  captured  or  dis 
persed.  Although  the  enemy  had  a  large  amount  of  artillery 
in  the  works  in  our  front,  we  suffered  but  little  from  it.  The 
whole  of  his  artillery  in  our  front  fell  into  our  hands  imme 
diately  upon  our  entering  the  works. 

This  brigade  assaulted  the  enemy  just  to  the  left  (the  enemy's 
right)  of  a  salient  angle  in  his  line  of  works.  After  gaining  an 
entrance  within  the  line  of  works,  the  enemy  was  still  firing 
over  them  to  our  right  and  upon  the  1st  and  2d  Divisions  of  the 
6th  Army  Corps,  but  in  a  few  moments  were  driven  from  their 
entire  line  of  works  in  front  of  our  corps.  This  brigade  cap 
tured  ten  pieces  of  artillery  immediately  after  entering  the 
enemy's  works,  for  which  it  received  receipts;  also  a  large 


*As  this  fort  was  garrisoned  by  the  Ninth,  to  our  regiment  belongs 
the  credit  of  sounding  the  knell  of  the  Confederacy.  The  movement 
beginning  at  this  4  A.  M.  ended  only  at  Appomattox, 


BREAKING   THE  LINES,   AND   SAILOR'S  CREEK.  225 

number  of  prisoners,  three  battle-flags,  and  Major  General 
Heath's  division  headquarters  flag. 

The  troops  of  the  brigade  were  in  some  confusion  after  enter 
ing  the  works,  but  the  main  body  was  at  once  directed  along 
the  enemy's  fortifications  to  the  left,  and  upon  a  strong  fort  con 
taining  four  pieces  of  artillery,  which  were  soon  captured. 
Although  a  number  of  troops  of  the  division  were  hurried  to 
this  fort,  yet  when  attacked  by  the  enemy,  they  were,  owing 
to  their  unorganized  condition,  driven  back,  and  the  fort  was 
retaken  and  held  by  the  rebels  a  very  short  time. 

At  this  juncture,  I  directed  Major  William  Wood  and  Brevet 
Major  S.  B.  Lamoreaux,  9th  New  York  Heavy  Artillery,  to 
place  in  position  a  four-gun  battery  captured  from  the  enemy, 
which  they  were  prompt  in  doing,,  and  fired  it  with  good 
effect.  .  .  . 

As  soon  as  the  recaptured  fort  was  again  retaken  by  us,  the 
main  body  of  the  troops  of  the  brigade,  with  the  other  troops 
of  the  division,  swept  along  the  enemy's  fortifications  to  the 
left  as  far  as  Hatcher's  Run,  and  small  parties  of  the  brigade 
with  the  brigade  sharpshooters  crossed  it  and  captured  a  large 
number  of  prisoners.  Twelve  pieces  of  artillery  were  captured 
during  this  movement  to  the  left  of  the  troops  of  the  3d  Divi 
sion.  .  .  . 

From  Hatcher's  Run  the  troops  were  hastened  back  to  the 
place  where  the  attack  was  first  made,  whence  the  division  was 
sent  to  the  front,  and  formed  fronting  Petersburg,  and  upon 
the  left  and  in  support  of  the  9th  Army  Corps. 

The  general  calls  particular  attention  to  the  brilliant  services 
of  Colonel  J.  W.  Snyder,  Majors  William  and  Anson  Wood  and 
Brevet  Major  S.  B.  Lamoreaux.  "So  near  were  the  colors  of 
the  110th  Ohio,  9th  New  York  Heavy  Artillery,  67th  Pennsyl 
vania  and  6th  Maryland  that  each  claims  the  honor  of  being 
first.  .  .  .  Sergeant  Judah  N.  Taylor,  Company  A,  9th  New 
York  Heavy  Artillery,  is  reported  by  his  regimental  com 
mander  as  having  captured  a  battle-flag,  which  he  gave  up  to 
two  officers  whose  names  are  not  known  to  him." 

The  report  of  Colonel  J.  W.  Snyder  is  to  the  following  effect : 

We  moved  out  of  camp  at  12  o'clock  midnight  to  the  rear 
of  the  picket-line  of  the  3d  Division  and  halted,  the  regiment 
forming  the  second  line.  At  4  o'clock  the  order  to  advance  was 
given,  and  we  moved  forward  under  a  galling  fire  of  artillery. 
As  we  moved  towards  the  enemy's  works  we  left-obliqued,  and 
entered  the  fort  in  front  of  the  left  of  the  3d  Division  line,  be 
ing  the  first  to  enter  the  work,  capturing  four  guns,  which  were 
immediately  brought  to  bear  upon  the  retreating  foe  with  great 
effect.  The  guns  were  manned  by  men  and  officers  of  the  regi- 
15 


226  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

ment,  and  they  handled  them  with  great  skill.  We  wheeled  to 
the  left  and  swept  down  the  right  of  the  rebel  line,  charging 
across  a  deep  swamp,  then  wading  to  our  breasts,  and  carried  an 
other  fort,  capturing  two  guns.  The  rebels  rallied  and  charged 
upon  us  and  drove  us  across  the  swamp  again,  where  we  held 
them  for  some  time.  The  artillery  under  charge  of  Major  Wil 
liam  Wood  of  the  regiment  dismounted  one  of  the  pieces  at 
the  first  fire,  which  left  them  but  one  gun,  which  was  soon 
silenced,  when  we  charged  again  across  the  swamp  and  cap 
tured  a  great  many  prisoners.  We  moved  on  down  the  enemy's 
line  for  a  couple  of  miles,  when  we  were  halted  and  formed;  then 
moved  down  the  left  of  the  enemy's  line  towards  Petersburg, 
before  which  we  reached  about  3  P.  M. 

To  mention  individual  instances  of  bravery  in  the  battle  by 
any  single  individual  would  be  but  doing  injustice  to  others. 
Both  officers  and  men  did  their  whole  duty  without  a  single 
exception;  but  I  must  speak  of  the  field-officers  in  my  command 
in  the  highest  terms.  Major  William  Wood  performed  his  duty 
nobly  in  urging  the  men  forward  to  the  assault,  and  after  car 
rying  the  works,  in  turning  the  enemy's  guns  upon  them  with 
telling  effect;  Major  A.  S.  Wood  was  active  in  urging  the  men 
forward;  also  Brevet  Major  S.  B.  Lamoreaux  performed  his 
duty  well.  The  line-officers  all  behaved  themselves  nobly;  so 
did  the  whole  command.  Lieutenants  Guy  A.  Brown  and 
(L.  H.)  Bigelow  were  wounded  while  charging  upon  the  enemy's 
wrorks  at  the  head  of  the  command.  They  should  receive  honor 
able  mention  for  their  gallantry. 

Altogether  this  was  a  pretty  good  Sunday's  work,  not  much 
like  that  to  which  most  of  the  boys  had  been  reared,  but  a  prac 
tical  destruction  of  the  power  of  evil,  against  which  all  Christian 
efforts  are  supposed  to  be  directed.  In  General  Wright's  report 
he  states  that  without  the  action  of  March  25th,  viz.,  the  cap 
ture  of  the  intrenched  rebel  picket-line,  the  success  of  this  day 
had  been  impossible,  for  here  there  was  opportunity  to  as 
semble  in  mass  and  thence  to  advance.  Also  he  lays  stress 
upon  this  being  the  very  weakest  portion  of  the  enemy's  line, 
a  fact  detected  by  long  and  close  inspection.  That  there  is 
science  in  war  becomes  evident  when  we  see  the  manner  in 
which  experts  set  themselves  about  carrying  into  effect  their 
theories.  Axmen  to  cut  away  the  abatis  accompanied  each 
advancing  line,  but  so  great  was  the  darkness  that,  he  states, 
the  signal  for  advancing  was  not  given  till  4.40  o'clock.  It  was 
while  the  3d  Division  was  making  its  left  swing  and  penetrat 
ing  some  parts  of  it  to  the  Southside  railroad  that  Confederate 
General  A.  P.  Hill  was  killed  by  Corporal  John  W.  Mauk  of 


BREAKING   THE   LINES,   AND   SAILOR'S  CREEK. 


227 


the  138th  Pennsylvania.  Recalled,  and  again  aligned,  the  3d 
Division  was  immediately  south  of  the  city  of  Petersburg,  with 
the  left  of  the  division  resting  on  the  Appomattox  river.  Gen 
eral  Wright  says  that  so  wearied  were  the  members  of  his  corps, 
having  been  under  arms  eighteen  hours,  it  was  deemed  inad 
visable  to  attack  till  the  following  morning,  so  they  betook 
themselves  to  merited  rest. 

One  officer,  writing  home,  says  of  the  fight:  "Our  men  seemed 
to  care  for  nothing;  went  right  in;  charged  through  ditches  and 
over  breastworks;  never  saw  such  fighting;  they  were  like  a 
lot  of  wild  men." 


From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 
PORT  STEDMAN,   SHOWING  GABION,  ABATIS  AND  CHEVAUX  DE  FRISE. 

Any  man  ever  in  an  engagement  knows  that  a  deal  of  urging 
is  necessary  at  times.  Men  need  driving  occasionally  to  keep 
them  up  to  the  requisite  pitch,  and  the  following,  written  in  his 
journal  the  very  day  of  the  charge,  seems  a  reasonable  account 
of  one  man's  observation,  himself  one  of  the  most  honored  sur 
vivors  of  the  regiment.  Like  a  sensible  man,  having  loved  ones 
at  home,  he  writes,  on  the  1st:  "Before  the  light  of  another  day, 
we  shall  charge  the  rebel  works;  all  are  talking  about  it;  all 
dread  it."  Are  we  reminded  of  Bayard  Taylor's  words  in  his 
Crimean  Episode, 

"We  storm  the  forts  to-morrow," 
and  as  the  singer  there  proved  himself  a  true  Briton,  so  these 


228  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

dreading  Northmen  did  their  duty  in  the  face  of  danger  and 
death. 

"After  being  up  all  night  in  expectation  and  making  prepa 
rations,  at  4  A.  M.  we  advance  upon  the  enemy's  works.  We 
have  not  gone  far  upon  the  charge  before  we  are  broken  up. 
We  lose  our  line  and  all  formation.  At  our  own  picket-line 
the  men  hesitate,  and  it  takes  much  urging  and  some  coaxing 
and  some  beating  with  the  sabre  to  get  them  along.  Have  to 
go  and  train  many.  Crossing  the  plain,  the  shells  from  the 
enemy's  forts  screech  over  our  heads,  streaks  of  seething  fire. 
As  we  get  nearer,  like  a  tempest  grape  and  canister  plunge, 
patter  and  bound  around  us  in  all  directions.  Behind  every 
stump  lie  one,  two  or  three  men  very  affectionately  hugging 
mother  earth  as  if  by  close  application  they  were  deriving  the 
milk  of  life.  'Come  on,  boys,  we  will  carry  their  works,'  has 
little  effect.  'Get  up,  you  cowardly  devils;'  'Get  out  of  this;' 
'Go  on;'  with  a  vigorous  application  of  the  flat  of  the  sabre, 
have  power.  I  started  an  officer  from  behind  a  stump,  urged 
by  the  flat  of  my  sword;  he  was  very  indignant,  and  asked  me 
if  I  knew  whom  I  was  talking  to.  Like  a  lot  of  sheep,  over  a 
stone  wall,  we  go  into  the  enemy's  works.  I  made  myself  very 
hoarse  by  giving  commands,  cheering  and  urging  on.  I  prac 
ticed  some  cheating,  which  had  better  effect  than  anything  else 
I  could  do.  When  they  hesitated  and  were  reluctant  to  go  on, 
I  cried  out,  'Come  on,  boys;  they've  only  one  gun  in  the  fort, 
and  nothing  but  a  skirmish  line  in  the  works.'  The  next  bat 
tery  was  playing  upon  us,  'Come  on,  boys,  let's  take  another/ 
It  is  hard  work  to  get  the  men  out  of  the  shanties  in  the  first 
works,  but  some  go  forward  and  soon  the  next  battery  is  taken. 
On  we  go,  and  our  men  enter  the  next  battery  and  camp,  but 
forgetting  all  order,  organization  and  discipline  and  beginning 
to  think  of  plunder,  the  enemy  in  small  force  turns  upon  us 
and  drives  us  back,  capturing  some.  When  at  the  second  fort, 
by  the  direction  of  General  Keifer,  we  get  into  position  the  six 
guns  we  had  there  taken,  and  by  this  time  there  was  need  of 
them  to  operate  against  the  enemy,  who  had  driven  our  men 
out  of  the  third  fort  and  were  working  the  guns  against  us. 
We  turned  their  guns  against  them,  used  their  own  ammunition 
and  made  it  tell  well.  We  fired  rapidly,  probably  half  an  hour. 
As  a  result,  one  of  their  guns  was  found  to  be  capsized  and  the 
carriage  broken.  By  the  other  gun  lay  its  gunner  with  half 


BREAKING   THE   LINES,   AND   SAILOR'S  CREEK. 


229 


230  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

of  his  head  blown  off,  and  near  by,  another  with  his  thigh 
smashed,  also  a  rebel  officer  who  had  bitten  the  dust.  The 
enemy  was  driven  again.  Then  having  no  horses  we  had  to 
leave  our  captured  guns  and  again  press  on  as  infantry,  and 
on  we  went.  After  taking  six  forts,  twelve  guns  and  many 
prisoners  we  halted.  The  prisoners  we  greeted  with  'Good 
morning,  a  fine  Sunday  morning,'  etc.  We  then  turned  back 
and  directed  our  course  along  the  line  of  works  lately  occupied 
by  the  enemy  and  towards  Petersburg.  ...  At  night  we 
shovel  a  little  dirt  for  protection,  in  case  the  enemy  should  come 
down  upon  us.  We  lay  down  to  rest,,  feeling  that  we  have 
worshiped  God  with  a  vengeance."  The  long  drill  in  the  forts, 
on  light  guns  as  well  as  heavy,  on  this  day  bore  excellent  fruit. 
The  men  fell  into  their  places  like  clockwork,  and  worked  the 
captured  guns  as  though  they  had  been  trained  on  them. 

The  morning  of  the  3d  reveals  the  rebel  forts  evacuated,  and 
there  is  nothing  to  hinder  our  advance,  which  we  make  at  day 
break.  Our  folks  under  General  O.  B.  Wllcox  were  in  the  city 
of  Petersburg  early,  and  General  Godfrey  Weitzel  entered 
Kichmond  at  8  A.  M.  Our  march  in  the  enemy's  wake  was  a 
long  and  weary  one.  Millions  of  dollars'  worth  of  impedimenta 
was  thrown  away  by  the  retreating  foe.  They  stopped  not  on 
the  order  of  their  going,  nor  did  they  hesitate  to  throw  away 
anything  that  could  impede.  The  pursuit  was  kept  up  through 
the  4th  with  the  utmost  speed. 

Our  start  the  5th,  as  usual,  is  early,  before  daybreak  even, 
and  at  sunrise  we  halt  for  coffee.  A  paper  is  read  before  us 
asking  us  to  endure  a  little  hardship,  and  stating  that  we  must 
march  twenty  miles  to  rations.  We  halt  at  11  A.  M.  and  draw 
rations,  but  before  we  can  utilize  them  the  bugle  calls  "Away," 
and  we  are  off,  leaving  abundance  of  food  for  crows  and  buz 
zards.  We  march  one  and  a  half  hours,  and  then  halt  fifteen 
minutes.  Again  a  paper  is  read  stating  that  Sheridan  has 
captured  six  guns  and  that  the  enemy  is  only  six  miles  ahead. 
We  cheer,  the  bugle  sounds,  and  again  we  advance  at  a  great 
rate.  A  cavalryman  whom  we  meet  tells  us  that  it  is  twelve 
miles  to  camp.  Another  day's  break-neck  march  on  the  6th, 
and  we  sample  all  points  of  the  compass,  ending  at  11.50  A.  M. 
very  near  our  late  camping-place.  Another  march  of  a  few 
hours  takes  us  into  the  battle-line  and  the  fight  at  Sailor's  creek. 

Though  we  knew  it  not,  there  was  method  in  all  this  march- 


MAJ.  GEN'L  PHILIP  H.  SHERIDAN. 
MAJ.  GEN'L  U.  S.  GRANT.  MAJ.  GEN'L  GEO.  G.  MEADE. 


BREAKING   THE  LINES,  AND   SAILOR'S  CREEK.  231 

ing  and  changing.  As  ever,  we  were  only  pawns  on  a  vast 
chess-board,  wholly  ignorant  of  the  intentions  of  the  mighty 
hand  that  moved  us.  We  could  have  done  no  better  had  each 
day's  intentions  been  revealed  to  us.  The  ancient  orders  to  do 
our  duty  and  to  question  not,  applied.  The  men  who  fell  in  this 
day's  doings  died  ignorant  of  the  great  consequences  following 
their  obedience,  and  thus  it  was  on  every  battlefield.  Occa 
sionally,  as  at  Winchester,  we  knew  our  ground  and  what  the 
stake,  but  such  cases  were  rare.  Not  a  dozen  men  in  the  regi 
ment,  officers  included,  knew  where  we  were  and  hardly  which 
way  we  were  headed,  except  as  they  now  and  then  glanced  at 
their  shadows.  We  did  know  full  well  that  we  had  the  enemy 
on  the  run,  and  what  were  fatigue  and  danger  in  the  exhilara 
tion  of  that  pursuit? 

It  is  fair  to  premise  that  General  Lee  was  straining  every 
nerve  to  reach  Danville,  and  Grant  was  equally  strenuous  in 
his  efforts  to  prevent.  From  Petersburg  Lee's  trend  had  been 
southwest,  with  the  hope  of  eventually  making  a  junction  with 
Johnston,  which  being  done,  though  the  issue  would  have  been 
the  same,  the  day  had  been  long  postponed.  Grant  was  a  bet 
ter  tactician  than  Lee,  and  his  generals  could  interpret  and 
execute  his  wishes.  Sheridan  was  one  of  the  gods  of  war,  to 
whom  come,  by  intuition,  the  purposes  of  the  enemy,  and  he 
moved  army  corps  as  easily  as  a  housewife  arranges  the  furni 
ture  of  her  home.  These  army  corps  were  commanded  by  kings 
of  men,  each  one  a  master  in  his  vocation,  and  so  on,  down  to 
the  marching  entities  who  carried  guns,  each  man  was  a  think 
ing,  reasoning  being  having  perfect  confidence  in  his  leaders 
up  to  and  including  the  highest,  in  the  righteousness  of  his 
cause,  and,  what  counted  most  of  all,  in  himself.  Every  com 
mander  believed  in  his  men  and  every  man  would  stake  his  life 
on  the  ability  of  his  officer,  hence  the  grandest,  mightiest  ag 
gregation  of  fighting  material  the  world  ever  saw. 

Then,  as  to  this  day,  both  of  the  wings  of  the  rebel  army,  on 
the  previous  night  by  circuitous  roads,  had  marched  away  from 
Amelia  Court  House,  around  the  Union  left,  and  there  was 
danger  of  their  accomplishing  the  march  to  Danville.  This 
must  be  headed  off,  and  Sheridan  is  the  man  to  do  it.  His  fa 
mous  6th  Corps  with  his  cavalry  is  his  weapon.  In  his  Memoirs, 
General  Grant  says:  "When  the  movement  towards  Amelia 
Court  House  had  commenced  that  morning,  I  ordered  Wright's 


232  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

corps,  which  was  on  the  extreme  right,  to  be  moved  to  the  left 
past  the  whole  army,  to  take  the  place  of  Griffin's,  and  ordered 
the  latter,  at  the  same  time,  to  move  by  and  to  place  itself  on 
the  right.  The  object  of  this  movement  was  to  get  the  6th 
Corps,  Wright's,  next  to  the  cavalry,  with  which  they  had  pre 
viously  served  so  harmoniously  and  so  efficiently  in  the  valley 
of  Virginia." 

The  battle  itself  is,  perhaps,  best  told  in  a  paper  read  by  our 
brigade  commander,  General  Keifer,  before  the  Ohio  Com- 
mandery  of  the  Loyal  Legion,  and  from  which  in  substance 
the  following  account  is  taken.  He  begins  by  stating,  what 
few  can  deny,  that  not  five  per  cent,  of  the  intelligent  people 
of  the  United  States,  North  and  South,  who  were  of  mature 
years  at  the  close  of  the  Rebellion,  and  a  far  less  proportion  of 
those  of  a  later  day,  ever  heard  of  the  Battle  of  Sailor's  Creek 
at  all.  Most  of  the  well-informed  officers  and  soldiers  of  that 
war,  of  both  armies,  knew  little  or  nothing  of  it.  This  igno 
rance  is  readily  accounted  for  on  account  of  the  magnitude  of 
the  events  which  were  rapidly  occurring  in  those  days  leading 
up  to  the  surrender.  Very  likely,  no  other  two  weeks  in  Ameri 
can  history  carry  so  great  a  burden  of  imperishable  material 
as  those  extending  from  the  forcing  of  the  Petersburg  lines  to 
the  president's  assassination;  hence  this  fight  of  short  con 
tinuance,  involving  the  loss  of  many  lives  on  both  sides,  the  cap 
turing  of  thousands  of  the  enemy,  including  more  general  offi 
cers  than  had  been  taken  at  one  time  before,  is  almost  hidden 
in  the  stronger  glare  of  Five  Forks,  the  surrender  at  Appo- 
mattox,  and  the  Lincoln  tragedy.  It  was  the  hottest  kind  of 
an  engagement  while  it  lasted,  and  the  enemy  resisted  up  to 
the  limit  of  human  endurance,  fully  exhibiting  the  proverbial 
Anglo-Saxon  prowess.  The  stories  of  other  fields  less  bloody, 
less  important,  are  told  over  and  over  while  this  is  all  but  for 
gotten.  Sailor's  creek,  on  which  the  battle  was  fought,  is  a 
small  stream  in  Prince  Edward's  county,  and,  flowing  north 
ward,  empties  into  the  Appomattox.  The  battle  was  fought 
five  miles  from  Rice's  Station  on  the  Lynchburg  railroad.  On 
the  morning  of  the  6th,  our  forces  at  Jetersville  were  started 
towards  Amelia  Court  House,  but  were  speedily  counter 
marched  when  the  movement  of  Lee  was  realized.  Our  next 
aim  was  to  intercept  the  retreating  army.  Every  road  and 
cross-lot  routes  were  seized  in  the  effort  to  head  off  the  foe. 


BREAKING   THE   LINES,   AND   SAILOR'S  CREEK. 


233 


SAILOR'S  CREEK   BATTLEFIELD. 


234  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

The  6th  Corps  followed  hard  after  General  Wesley  Merritt's 
cavalry,  and  as  usual  overtook  them,  about  3  P.  M.,  after  a 
march  of  eighteen  miles,  at  a  point  two  and  a  half  miles  from 
Sailor's  creek  on  the  left.  Here  the  cavalry  were  having  a 
brisk  engagement  with  the  enemy.  Our  2d  Brigade  went  into 
the  action  promptly,  with  scarcely  a  halt  for  preparation.  The 
foe  was  charged,  pressed  back  and  a  large  haul  made  of  pris 
oners,  wagon-trains  and  some  artillery.  However,  the  main 
body  of  the  Confederates  had  gone  on  to  Sailor's  creek.  Gen 
eral  Sheridan  ordered  an  immediate  pursuit,  and  we  followed 
on.  The  1st  Division  of  our  corps  came  up  and  joined  in  the 
pursuit.  The  greater  part  of  the  cavalry  passed  on  to  the  left 
and  south  to  intercept  the  retreating  enemy.  General  R.  S. 
Ewell  was  in  command  of  the  Confederates,  and  by  5  P.  M.  he 
had  taken  up  a  strong  position  on  the  west  bank  of  the  creek. 
His  location  was  elevated  and  largely  covered  with  forest.  The 
approaches  on  the  east  were  level  and  open,  the  stream  itself 
washing  the  foot  of  the  elevations.  Here  he  awaited  an  attack, 
failing  which  he  would,  in  the  ensuing  night,  make  good  his 
escape  to  Danville.  Without  waiting  for  the  portions  of  the 
corps  which  had  not  arrived,  an  immediate  attack  was  ordered, 
and  holding  aloft  their  guns  and  ammunition,  the  swollen 
stream  was  forded,  our  soldiers  literally  "wading  in."  With 
only  a  single  line,  the  heights  were  assaulted,  while  the  cavalry, 
which  had  passed  entirely  around  the  enemy,  furiously  fell  upon 
his  rear.  The  Confederates,  massed  in  heavy  column  and  led  by 
Ewell  himself,,  broke  our  centre.  This,  however,  only  exposed 
him  to  the  artillery  across  the  stream,  while  the  broken  Union 
lines  fell  upon  both  flanks,  and  the  cavalry  pressed  hard  upon 
his  rear.  The  enemy  struggled  manfully,  but  to  no  avail ;  even 
the  bravery  of  desperation  could  not  save,  and  there  was  noth 
ing  to  do  but  to  throw  down  their  arms,  and  surrender.  Com 
modore  J.  Randolph  Tucker  in  command  of  the  Marine  Bri 
gade,  a  force  of  about  2000  men,  also  gave  up,  though  only 
after  a  stubborn  resistance.  The  most  of  the  officers  of  this 
body,  some  thirty-five  in  number,  before  the  war  had  served 
in  the  United  States  Navy,  and  before  the  evacuation  of  Rich 
mond  had  made  themselves  useful  in  manning  gunboats  and 
river  batteries.  It  was  a  singular  decree  of  fate  that  sent  them, 
these  seventy  and  more  miles  from  the  Confederate  Capital, 
to  be  made  prisoners,  of  all  places  in  the  world  for  men  bear- 


BREAKING   THE  LINES,  AND   SAILOR'S  CREEK.  235 

ing  their  name,  at  Sailor's  Creek,*  or,  as  it  was  sometimes 
called.  Sailor's  Hun,  though  be  it  said  to  their  credit,  they  didn't 
run. 

Among  the  officers  who  fell  into  our  hands  were  Lieutenant 
General  R.  S.  Ewell,  Major  Generals  Kershaw,  Curtis  Lee  and 
Pickett,  with  Brigadier  Generals  Barton,  Corse  and  Lewis, 
while  the  rank  and  file  number  nearly  10,000  men.  Yet  such 
a  victory  has  scant  mention  in  the  running  histories  of  the  day. 
The  loss  of  so  many  men  forced  General  Lee  to  move  with  what 
remained  of  his  army  northward,  and  three  days  later  came 
the  final  scene  at  Appomattox.  Though  there  were  cavalry 
skirmishes  afterwards,  the  battle  practically  closed  the  great 
engagement  list.  General  Keifer's  concluding  words  are:  "It 
may  truthfully  be  said  that  it  was  not  only  the  last  general 
field  battle  of  the  war,  but  the  one  wherein  more  officers  and 
men  were  captured  in  the  struggle  of  conflict  than  in  any  battle 
of  modern  times."  In  the  report  which  followed  this  cam 
paign,  General  Keifer  is  pleased  to  bestow  merited  praises  upon 
several  officers  of  our  regiment,  ascribing  to  Lieutenant  Colonel 
Snyder  great  skill,  judgment  and  bravery  in  the  management 
of  his  regiment:  "Major  William  Wood,  while  leading  his  bat 
talion  in  a  charge,  received  a  dangerous  wound  from  a  canister- 
shot  in  the  face;  Majors  Anson  Wood,  S.  B.  Lamoreaux  and 
Captains  George  W.  Brinkerhoff,  Henry  J.  Rhodes  and  Chaun- 
cey  Fish  are  among  the  many  who  did  their  duty  nobly."  He 
also  praises  Lieutenant  J.  W.  Jewhurst,  an  aide-de-camp  upon 
his  staff,  for  his  discharge  of  duty. 

Of  the  part  borne  by  the  Ninth  in  this  engagement  the  re 
port  of  Colonel  Snyder  says,  dealing  apparently  with  the  charge 
a  short  distance  from  the  stream  which  gave  its  name  to  the 
entire  battle: 

"The  regiment  was  formed  in  the  second  line,  and  advanced 


*The  peculiarity  of  this  name  for  a  stream  so  far  inland  having 
aroused  my  curiosity,  I  addressed  a  note  to  Richard  Mcllwaine,  D.  D., 
president  of  Hampden- Sidney  College,  located  in  the  same  county, 
Prince  Edward's,  asking  him  for  an  explanation,  if  possible,  and  he 
was  kind  enough  to  speedily  return  the  following  very  lucid  reason: 
"My  impression  is  that  the  proper  spelling  of  Saylors  creek  is  with  a 
y.  In  the  last  century,  there  was  a  family  of  Saylors  in  Prince  Ed 
ward's  county,  and  my  understanding  is  that  the  creek  took  its  name 
from  them."  (The  corruption  of  this  name  to  that  now  used  is  very 
easy  and  the  explanation  reasonable. — A.  S.  R.) 


236  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

through  a  wood  in  good  order.  After  clearing  the  wood  it 
made  a  right  wheel  and  moved  forward  about  200  yards,  when 
it  made  a  left  half  wheel.  At  this  time  I  was  ordered  to  charge 
a  battery  that  was  in  our  immediate  front,  in  a  piece  of  woods, 
which  was  firing  shot  and  shell  with  great  rapidity.  We  move 
forward  on  the  double-quick,  and  soon  forced  the  battery  to 
limber  up  and  retire.  They  planted  the  battery  again  in  a 
piece  of  woods  across  an  open  field  and  opened  on  us  with  a 
heavy  fire,  but  pur  advance  across  the  field  caused  it  to  limber 
to  the  rear.  The  men  were  completely  exhausted,  having 
marched  eighteen  miles  and  receiving  no  rest  before  entering 
the  action ;  if  they  had  been  f resh,  we  should  have  captured  the 
battery  without  any  doubt.  The  men  behaved  with  their  usual 
gallantry."  He  also  pays  tribute  to  the  bravery  of  the  officers 
complimented  by  General  Keifer,  and  mentions  the  wounding 
of  Major  William  Wood. 

It  was  in  this  fight  that  Jimmy  H.,  the  discoverer  of  the  "hul 
ribbel  ahrmy"  at  Newtown  in  the  valley,  still  further  distin 
guished  himself  by  remarking  to  Sergeant  Judah  N.  Taylor 
when  the  order  to  fix  bayonets  and  charge  came,  "Sure,  Jude, 
I  canno'  charge  whin  I  have  no  bayonet;"  but  Jimmy  was 
swept  along  with  those  who  were  properly  equipped,  for  no  one 
knew  just  how  the  remonstrant  came  to  be  without  a  proper 
outfit.  Says  an  officer  of  this  day:  "I  went  over  the  field  at 
Sailor's  creek.  The  dead  rebels  covered  the  grounds;  about 
ten  of  them  to  one  of  our  men." 

But  this  affair,  however  far-reaching  in  its  effects,  is  only  an 
interlude  in  the  symphony  that  Grant  is  playing  for  the  enter 
tainment  of  mankind,  and  on  the  7th  we  pass  over  the  Lynch- 
burg  railroad  at  Bice's  Station,  entering  Farmville  at  noon 
very  soon  after  rations  had  been  issued  by  the  enemy.  Our 
bands  give  the  citizens  "Yankee  Doodle"  and  the  "Star  Span 
gled  Banner"  as  we  march  through,  crossing  the  Appomattox 
upon  a  pontoon  bridge. 

The  debris  and  clutter  of  the  flying  foe  cumber  the  entire 
way,  but  the  reception  accorded  by  the  liberated  slaves  is  some 
thing  to  remember  forever.  That  they  were  free  and  that  their 
saviors  were  passing,  drew  from  all  of  them  fervent  thanks  and 
prayers.  The  farmers  apparently  had  not  cared  to  sow  much 
wheat  last  fall,  and  what  little  they  did  put  in,  our  beeves  were 
rapidly  cropping.  Farmville  is  a  fine  village,  and  we  hear  that 


BREAKING   THE  LINES,   AND   SAILOR'S  CREEK.  237 

18,000  prisoners  have  been  taken.  Still  following  the  flying 
foe,  we  march  three  miles  the  next  morning,  and  draw  three 
days'  rations.  The  weather  is  very  warm,  made  all  the  more 
so  by  the  burning  of  a  rebel  wagon-train.  A  trace  of  slavery 
is  seen  in  the  form  of  a  bright  hazel-eyed,  yellow-skinned  boy, 
who  answers  our  questions  very  intelligently,  yet  says  he  is  a 
slave.  Negro  women  are  nearly  frantic  with  joy  over  our  com 
ing.  Farmville  furnishes  an  abundance  of  tobacco,  Virginia's 
peculiar  product,  and  our  boys  help  themselves.  They  are 
greedy,  and  start  away  with  far  more  than  they  can  carry. 
The  roads  are  strewn  with  it. 

Gardening  was  a  favorite  amusement  as  the  army  passed 
along,  for  it  frequently  revealed  stores  of  food  and  liquors 
hidden  in  the  ground.  At  Farmville  this  kind  of  industry  was 
particularly  fruitful.  Sometimes  the  boys  divided  with  the 
officers,  and  sometimes  they  didn't,  depending  somewhat  on  the 
quantity  found,  and  the  popularity  of  the  shoulder-straps. 

Our  direction  of  the  8th  must  have  been  towards  the  north 
west,  for  our  camp  at  night  is  at  New  Store,  and  to  reach  Ap- 
pomattox  Court  House  the  next  day  we  have  to  turn  southward. 
However,  though  we  reach  New  Store  late,  our  camp  is  luxuri 
ous  to  at  least  some  of  the  Ninth.  A  member  of  Company  L 
dilates  on  the  comforts  had  from  a  feather-bed  taken  from  the 
house  of  a  reputed  rebel  captain.  Like  the  Irishman's  bedstead, 
viz.,  the  floor,  our  lad  laid  his  bed  on  the  most  substantial  of 
holders,  the  ground,  and  under  the  stars  fancied  himself  at 
home  again  with  his  unwonted  luxury.  He  says  eight  such  bits 
of  comfort  were  taken  from  the  mansion,  and  in  like  manner 
were  placed  where  the  occupants  wouldn't  get  hurt  if  they 
should  fall  out.  But  there  is  no  sweet  without  its  offset  of  bit 
ter,  and  the  next  morning  our  boys  were  tauntingly  called 
"feather-bed  soldiers"  by  those  not  fortunate  enough  to  get 
there  first.  Still  there  was  warrant  for  such  appropriation, 
since  these  boys  in  four  days  and  nights  had  had  only  twelve 
hours'  sleep.  Sofa-bottomed  chairs  bestrewed  the  yard,  and 
oil  paintings  hung  upon  the  walls  of  the  rooms,  and  singularly 
enough  they  were  not  disturbed,  though  some  books  were  car 
ried  off.  Also  ablutions  were  performed  in  clean,  white  dishes 
by  these  campaign-stained  travelers,  who  took  occasion  to  re 
mark  that  if  the  women  hadn't  run  away,  they  (the  soldiers) 
would  not  have  disturbed  a  thing.  There  were  buildings 


238  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

burned,,  however,  among  them  one  that  was  claimed  to  be  or 
to  have  been  the  residence  of  the  late  General  A.  P.  Hill,  and 
to  have  been  more  recently  used  as  headquarters.  As  the  Ninth 
is  a  very  large  regiment,  it  is  possible  that  all  did  not  make 
this  detour.  Indeed,  so  frequently  were  detachments  called  for 
to  attend  to  all  sorts  of  duties,  it  would  be  particularly  difficult 
to  follow  each  and  every  company  in  its  peregrinations. 

The  sublime  and  the  ridiculous  are  ever  very  near  each  other. 
We  find  a  verification  of  this  on  the  9th  in  that  the  sublime 
was  indicated  in  the  surrender  of  Lee  and  his  forces;  the  ridic 
ulous  in  the  enforcement  of  General  Seymour's  order  concern 
ing  hats.  Light-colored  ones  are  positively  tabooed,  and  those 
captured  are  strung  upon  the  bayonets  of  the  guards.  A  mile 
stone  in  history  is  set  to-day,  for  the  surrender  of  Lee  marks 
the  collapse  of  the  cause  for  which  he  had  sacrificed  all  his 
private  opinions  and  all  his  expectations,  for  General  Scott  had 
believed  him  the  man  to  succeed  to  the  command  of  the  armies 
of  the  United  States.  Cheers  from  thousands  of  throats  indi 
cated  Union  joy,  and  the  tumult  is  increased  by  the  salvos  of 
artillery  in  honor  of  the  event. 

Fate  is  grim  and  without  reason,  else  this  part  of  America 
had  not  been  selected  as  the  climax  of  the  greatest  war  of  the 
century.  Remote,  and  without  distinguishing  trait,  it  had  re 
mained  unknown  another  hundred  years  had  not  the  exigencies 
of  the  retreat  led  these  armies  hither.  The  name  of  McLean* 
and  Appomattox  are  henceforth  to  be  linked  in  story,  and  the 
brick  house  and  apple-tree  are  to  take  their  places  in  the  lists 
of  notables  for  coming  centuries.  General  Grant  in  his  matter- 
of-fact  way  dispels  much  of  the  halo  that  had,  up  to  the  writ 
ing  of  his  Memoirs,  attached  to  the  apple-tree.  Of  course  the 
relic-hunter  had  carried  it  off  bodily,  but  the  general  says  that 
General  Lee  sat  for  a  few  moments  by  the  road-side  under  its 
branches,  and  that  no  negotiations  were  had  there.  The  officers 
met  in  the  house  of  Mr.  McLean,  and  there  their  staff-officers 
visited  while  the  chiefs  made  the  compact  which  resulted  in 
the  surrender  of  25,000  worn-out  Confederates  to  the  Federal 


*Wilmer  McLean  was  living  in  1861  on  the  Bull  Run  battlefield,  his 
house  there  being  Beauregard's  headquarters.  Later  to  escape  his 
vexatious  surroundings,  he  moved  to  this  seemingly  quiet  locality. 
It  was  a  strange  decree  of  fate  that  made  his  home  the  very  ending  of 
the  struggle. 


BREAKING   THE   LINES,   AND   SAILOR'S  CREEK.  239 

forces.  The  enemy  bad  fought  and  retreated  till  there  was  noth 
ing  left  for  him  to  do  but  to  lay  down  his  arms  and  to  receive 
such  terms  as  General  Grant  chose  to  impose.  The  latter,  de 
termined  and  relentless  in  war,  was  mild  and  merciful  in  peace. 
The  most  stupendous  of  struggles  was  ended  in  the  most  com 
passionate  manner.  The  old  world  had  never  seen  a  conqueror 
dismissing  the  thousands  whom  he  had  beaten,  to  their  homes 
and  vocations  bearing  with  them  such  articles  as  might  con 
tribute  to  their  future  well  being.  In  every  way,  save  in  the 
universal  quality  of  personal  bravery,  our  war  was  an  excep 
tion  to  all  those  which  thus  far  had  devastated  the  earth.  In 


WHERE   LEE   SURRENDERED. 

this  lull  of  hostilities,  old  friends  in  both  armies  are  renewing 
former  intimacies  and  none  are  sorry  that,  when  the  leaders 
separate,  it  is  with  the  understanding  complete.  There  are 
few  men  living  who  do  not  regard  that  moment  when  the  words, 
"Lee  has  surrendered,"  were  borne  to  their  ears,  in  that  far 
away  Virginia  county,  as  the  culminating  moment  of  their  lives. 
They  lived  years  in  those  few  hours  of  bliss,  too  intense  for 
full  expression,  though  they  resorted  to  every  possible  form  of 
indication.  Nothing,  however,  in  the  crowning  acts  of  this  day 
eclipses  the  merciful  kindness  of  the  conqueror  in  sending  ra 
tions  from  his  trains  which  had  followed  hard  after  him,  but 


240  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

the  men  themselves  did  not  wait  for  the  slower  coming  of  food 
from  the  supply-trains.  They,  imbued  with  the  same  spirit  as 
that  of  their  leader,  emptied  their  haversacks  for  the  aid  and 
comfort  of  those  whom  they  had  so  recently  fought  and  fol 
lowed.  Both  sides  had  learned  to  respect  each  other.  Says 
one  "chiel,"  who  would  always  be  taking  notes,  "The  rebels  are 
as  glad  as  we  that  it  is  over,  and  it  is  a  glad  sight  to  see  them 
eat."  Before  we  about-face  for  the  return  march,  we  have  the 
unspeakable  joy  of  seeing  the  flag  saluted  by  the  men  who  had 
scoffed  at  it  for  more  than  four  long  years,  the  very  banner 
which  was  to  hereafter  float  over  a  whole  nation,  one  and  indi 
visible. 

Though  the  language  of  General  Wright  in  this  connection 
may  add  nothing  to  the  foregoing,  it  is  fitting  that  it  should 
have  a  place  in  these  pages.  He  says:  "Starting  at  5  A.  M.  on 
Sunday,  the  9th,  the  2d  Corps  was  soon  overtaken  and  followed 
closely  to  the  vicinity  of  Appomattox  Court  House,  where  the 
troops  were  halted  and  held  ready  for  any  movement,  awaiting 
the  conference  then  being  held  between  Generals  Grant  and 
Lee.  Soon  after  halting,  official  intelligence  of  the  surrender 
of  General  Lee's  forces  was  announced  to  the  army,  and  was 
received  with  great  enthusiasm  by  the  soldiers,  who  looked  upon 
this  as  the  result  of  all  their  privations, and  as  the  virtual  ending 
of  the  struggle  which  had  convulsed  the  country  for  four  years, 
in  which  they  had  willingly  risked  their  lives  and  fortunes." 


CHAPTER     XXII. 

THE  DANVILLE  RAID. 

Some  of  the  regiment  as  wagon-guard  start  back  on  the  10th, 
on  which  day,  in  spite  of  the  recent  order,  three  days'  rations 
are  distributed,  possibly  on  account  of  recent  generosity  to 
wards  our  hungry  foemen.  The  llth  sees  us  beginning  the 
backward  march,  reaching  Farmville  on  the  12th  and  Burks- 
ville  the  13th,  where  we  camp  near  the  junction  for  ten  days. 
Foraging  again  is  the  order  of  the  day,  and  the  valley  is  recalled. 
Rain  falls  at  intervals,  and  boys  who  lay  down  dry  awake  wet, 
sometimes  drenched.  So  much  so  in  some  cases  that  stockings 


THE   DANVILLE    RAID.  241 

had  to  be  taken  off  and  wrung  before  boots  could  be  put  on. 
Trains  come  through  from  Petersburg,  and  regular  rations  are 
drawn.  While  here  the  distressing  news  of  President  Lincoln's 
assassination*  on  the  14th  is  received,  and  the  joy  at  Lee's  sur 
render  is  lost  in  the  gloom  of  this  terrible  crime.  The  19th, 
twenty-minute  guns  are  fired  at  headquarters  in  token  of  the 
burial.  Services  are  also  had  and  General  Keifer  speaks  along 
with  Colonel  Sn}7der  and  Major  A.  S.  Wood.  All  flags  are 
craped. 

While  camping  here,  we  see  more  than  a  hundred  captured 
cannon.  Seventy  of  them  had  been  honored  with  burial,  having 
headboards  with  all  sorts  of  names  and  dates  to  mark  their 
resting-place.  As  one  of  Sheridan's  scouts  assisted  in  the  inter 
ment,  the  deception  was  readily  discovered.  There  were  five 


*Our  late  surgeon,  Dr.  Samuel  A.  Sabin,  was  an  eye-witness  of  the 
terrible  crime,  as  appears  in  the  following,  from  a  letter  to  his  wife, 
dated  Washington,  D.  0.,  April  15,  1865: 

"Washington  has  been,  from  the  first  day  I  came  here,  until  10.30 
o'clock  last  night,  one  constant  and  continued  scene  of  rejoicing,  but 
how  soon  and  how  suddenly  to  be  changed  to  the  deepest  gloom,  the 
most  profound  sorrow.  Last  night  I  was  an  eye-witness  to  the  most 
appalling  tragedy  ever  enacted  in  the  history  of  the  country.  Lieut. 
Hoff,  formerly  of  the  9th,  is  here,  and  rooms  with  me,  and  I  proposed 
to  go,  last  night,  and  hear  Laura  Keene  in  'Our  American  Cousin'  at 
Ford's  Theatre.  We  occupied  orchestra  chairs  near  the  stage  and 
about  the  middle  of  the  house.  Mr.  Lincoln,  accompanied  by  Mrs. 
Lincoln,  Miss  Harris  and  a  gentleman  whom  I  did  not  know  (the 
gentleman  was  Major  H.  R.  Rathbone,  U.  S.  A.,  of  Albany,  who  was 
wounded  by  Booth ;  the  lady,  a  daughter  of  Senator  Ira  Harris  of 
Albany  also. — A.  S.  R.)  entered  the  upper  private  box,  on  the  right 
hand  facing  the  stage,  and  you  will  recollect  that  the  upper  box  is 
pretty  high,  facing  the  stage.  The  audience  greeted  him  with  pro 
longed  cheers,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  act,  when  he  entered,  the  band 
played  a  national  air.  Just  as  the  curtain  was  rising,  in  the  third  act, 
the  sharp  report  of  a  pistol  was  heard  in  the  direction  of  the  pres 
ident's  box,  and  immediately  afterwards  a  man  jumped  from  the  box 
upon  the  stage  with  a  drawn  dagger  in  his  left  hand.  The  president's 
box  was  draped  with  flags  upon  the  outside,  and  as  he  jumped  from 
the  box  he  was  partially  caught  by  a  flag  and  fell  upon  the  stage,  but 
not  entirely  down.  As  he  reached  the  stage  he  cried,  'Sic  semper 
tyrannis,1  and  immediately  ran  along  the  footlights  and  left  the  theatre 
by  a  back  entrance,  where  he  had  a  horse  waiting,  which  he  mounted 
and  rode  rapidly  off  before  the  audience  had  recovered  from  paralysis 
occasioned  by  the  unwonted  spectacle.  My  first  thought  was  that  a 
boy  in  the  gallery  had  fired  off  one  of  these  large  firecrackers 
16 


242  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

which  we  have  been  hearing  for  the  last  week,  and  that  one  of  the 
president's  party  had  been  seized  with  a  fit,  or  had  suddenly  become 
insane,  and  I  ran  back  towards  the  door  to  stop  him,  supposing,  as  he 
went  behind  the  scenes,  he  had  instead  jumped  to  the  floor  and  was 
coming  around  towards  the  door.  As  I  got  to  the  door,  someone  said, 
'The  president  is  shot,'  and,  thinking  there  would  be  no  surgeon  at 
hand  I  might  be  of  service,  I  ran  immediately  to  the  president's  box. 
When  I  got  there  I  found  everything,  of  course,  in  the  utmost  confu 
sion,  some  calling  for  one  thing,  some  for  another.  As  soon  as  I  saw 
the  wound  I  saw  there  was  no  hope,  and  another  surgeon  had  stated 
the  same  previously.  Some  brandy  was  brought  and  given,  but  he 
could  not  swallow.  The  bullet  entered  the  head  behind  the  left  ear 
and  penetrated  the  brain,  lodging  in  the  same.  It  seems  the  man 
entered  the  box  on  some  pretence  or  other,  and  immediately  fired  his 
pistol  with  fatal  effect  and  jumped  upon  the  stage.  The  president,  of 
course,  was  entirely  unconscious,  and  remained  so  until  he  died  at 
7.30  o'clock  this  morning.  He  was  carried  as  soon  as  possible  to  a 
private  residence  across  the  street,  where  he  remained  till  he  died. 
Mrs.  Lincoln  was  nearly  crazy,  and  as  she  followed  the  body  from  the 
theatre  she  cried  in  frantic  words, 'Oh,  my  poor  husband;  oh,  my 
poor  husband!'  I  did  not  accompany  the  body  across  the  street,  as  I 
might  have  done,  dreading  to  be  called  as  a  witness  when  there  should 
be  an  investigation.  I  shall  never  forget  the  expression  of  the  assas 
sin's  face  when  he  leaped  upon  the  stage;  his  face  as  white  as  parch 
ment,  his  black,  fierce-looking  eyes,  his  black  moustache,  the  drawn 
dagger  in  his  hand  and  the  [to  some]  cabalistic  words,  lSic  semper 
tyrannis,' — all  made  an  impression  upon  my  mind  which  can  never  be 
erased.  Report  says,  and  I  do  not  doubt  the  truth,  that  J.  Wilkes 
Booth  is  the  assassin.  He  has  been  arrested  and  he  is  now  being  tried. 
When  I  returned  to  my  hotel  the  bar-keeper  came  in  and  said  that 
Secretary  Seward  and  his  two  sons,  Fred  and  Clarence,  had  all  been 
cut  to  pieces  by  another  assassin.  I  could  not  credit  it  and  went  to 
the  secretary's  house  to  ascertain  the  truth.  I  found  it  to  be  as  the 
papers  state  it.  I  have  just  learned  that  Secretary  Seward  is  out  of 
danger,  but  Fred  is  not  expected  to  live,  his  skull  being  badly  frac 
tured.  *  *  *  I  assure  you  it  looked  very  sad  to  see  the  president 
lying  in  his  box,  shot  through  the  head,  when  but  a  moment  before  he 
had  been  in  full  health  and  life,  laughing  at  the  numerous  jokes  with 
which  the  piece  abounded.  I  could  not,  for  a  long  time  after  I  had 
seen  him,  realize  that  it  was  the  president  who  was  thus,  without  a 
moment's  warning,  all  unconscious  of  the  least  danger,  murdered  by 
a  foul  assassin.  *  *  *  I  have  just  come  in  from  the  street,  and 
where  yesterday  everything  was  covered  with  flags  and  everybody 
was  rejoicing,  all  is  covered  with  crape  and  everybody  is  mourning. 
When  on  my  way  from  the  theatre,  last  night,  the  streets  were 
thronged  with  negroes,  who  were  crying  and  wringing  their  hands  in 
the  greatest  distress.  The  fence  in  front  of  the  White  House,  to-day, 
is  lined  with  negroes  and  they  are  expressing  their  great  sorrow  at 
the  loss  of  their  best  friend." 


THE   DANVILLE    RAID.  243 

Armstrong  guns,  two  mounted  on  English  carriages,  and  one 
Whitworth.  Seven  rebel  officers  are  reported  shot  for  tearing 
up  railroad  track  between  Richmond  and  Petersburg.  A  good, 
long  and  much  needed  rest  is  had  in  this  halt,  and  the  boys  get 
back  to  their  normal  selves. 

But  Johnston  has  not  surrendered,  so  Sheridan's  old  guard 
of  the  valley  along  with  his  cavalry  set  forth  to  make  the  trip 
to  Danville  and  thus  unite  with  Sherman.  The  men  are  used 
to  marching,  and  they  are  nothing  loath  to  undertake  the  125 
miles  to  the  North  Carolina  border.  The  railroad  itself  is  pro 
nounced  the  very  worst  we  have  seen,  just  old  strap  iron  laid 
on  longitudinal  sleepers.  The  only  wonder  is  that  it  was  able 
to  render  the  service  that  it  did.  Wrecked  cars  are  frequent 
objects.  It  was  over  this  road  that  Jefferson  Davis  and  his 
Cabinet  took  their  hurried  ride  from  Richmond  April  3d  on 
their  way  to  Danville,  the  last  capital  of  the  Confederacy,  to 
wards  which  we  are  wending  our  weary  way.  A  considerable 
portion  of  our  regiment  is  guarding  wagon-trains,  so  we  are 
not  marching  as  a  whole.  To  Northern  eyes  the  country  is  not 
inviting,  and  we  can  not  help  noting  the  small  acreage  of  grain. 
The  24th  takes  us  to  the  Staunton  river  at  Roanoke  Station. 
The  name  arouses  memories  of  John  Randolph,  who  always 
affixed  "of  Roanoke"  to  his  name,  and  very  likely  we  may  have 
passed  quite  near  the  old  home  of  this  descendant  of  Poca- 
hontas. 

Once  more  we  are  in  a  land  where  foraging  is  possible,  but  of 
course,  quite  out  of  order,  since  Lee  had  surrendered.  Notwith 
standing,  fresh  pork  was  not  an  infrequent  diet  on  this  south 
ern  ramble.  A  small  flat-bottomed  boat  takes  us  across  the 
river  at  daylight  of  the  25th,  for  the  bridge  had  been  burned. 
The  negroes  are  moving  in  great  numbers  towards  Richmond, 
which  now  takes  the  place  of  heaven  in  their  fancies;  the  face 
of  the  country  improves  as  we  advance  further  south.  Planters 
wear  pleasant  faces,  but  we  can  not  tell  what  is  in  their  hearts. 
Strawberries  and  blackberries  are  in  blossom.  At  nightfall  we 
camp  in  Halifax  Court  House;  others  near  Boston  Station, 
where  they  entertain  at  supper  and  bivouac  Jarvis  Norman 
from  Lee's  army,  exchanging  reminiscences.  The  camp  is  on 
the  farm  of  Dr.  Coleman,  consisting  of  thousands  of  acres. 
Colored  women,  wearing  garments  just  the  hue  of  the  red  soil 
they  cultivate,  are  seen  at  work  in  the  fields.  Hereabouts  the 


244  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

land  is  better,  and  better  tilled  than  in  the  vicinity  of  Rich 
mond.  There  are  wheat-fields  over  a  hundred  acres  in  extent. 
One  party  saw  a  negro  laborer  whose  overseer  had  stuck  a 
knife  into  his  shoulder  because  he  could  not  cultivate  corn 
more  rapidly.  Said  overseer  had  left  before  we  came  along. 

Since  crossing  the  Staunton  river,  the  negroes  travel  with  us 
towards  Danville.  The  27th  brings  the  different  lines  together 
at  the  covered  bridge  which  spans  the  Dan  river,  unaccount 
ably  spared  when  the  rebels  departed,  and  it  is  like  the  neck 
of  a  jug,  for  through  it  all  must  pass  in  reaching  the  city  op 
posite.  Not  much  of  a  city  to  Northern  eyes,  but  such  it  is. 
Some  of  the  Ninth  were  at  the  bridge  at  3  P.  M.,  but  they  had 
to  wait  till  all  were  up,  and  then  passing  through,  after  receiv 
ing  the  formal  surrender  of  the  city  from  Mayor  J.  M.  Walker 
and  the  city  government,  we  camped  on  a  hillside  two  or  three 
miles  south  of  Danville,  and  very  near  the  North  Carolina  line. 
'Tis  said  that  the  Johnny  purpose  to  destroy  the  bridge  was 
ready  enough,  but  the  citizens  prevented.  Possibly  the  dis 
position  to  surrender  was  heightened  by  the  fact  that  a  party 
of  soldiers  had  already  forded  the  Dan  river  at  the  right  and 
had  taken  5000  prisoners,  with  millions  of  property,  while  the 
mayor  was  doing  his  part  at  the  bridge.  Colonel  T.  W.  Hyde, 
commander  of  3d  Brigade,  2d  Division,  claims  the  honor  of 
first  entering  the  city.  With  genuine  Yankee  curiosity  (he  was 
a  Maine  man)  he  looked  up  the  office  of  the  Danville  Register, 
and  finding  forms  and  type  and  a  part  of  a  page  set  up,  he  sent 
Moses  Owens  to  complete  and  print,  issuing  the  first  number 
that  evening.  The  Sixth  Corps  as  long  as  we  remained  was  a 
regular  article  at  twenty-five  cents  a  copy.  It  was  not  much, 
only  a  broadside  11x16  inches,  but  it  was  funny.  Witness  some 
of  its  facetiae : 

"We  have  the  Wright  man  in  the  Wright  place." 

"Treason  can  not  Hyde  itself." 

"I  met  with  no  opposition  except  the  river,  which,  by  the  way, 
was  running  rapidly." 

"The  citizens  were  delighted  to  see  us,  and  many  were  seen 
to  cross  themselves  before  our  glorious  banner."  Signed  Owen- 
sisko. 

Colonel  C.  S.  Porter  of  the  1st  Maine  was  appointed  provost 
marshal.  Just  one-half  of  the  page  was  given  to  advertise 
ments  already  set  up,  including  "Two  runaway  slaves."  The 


THE    DANVILLE    RAID. 


245 


246 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


paper  was  run  on  a  very  funny  basis.  If  Editor  Owens  didn't 
feel  like  getting  out  a  new  paper,  he  reproduced  that  of  the 
day  before.  The  owner  of  the  paper  was  joined  with  Owens 
in  this  venture,  and  he  got  more  money  out  of  it  than  he  had 
ever  made  before.  They  faked  their  Northern  despatches,  and 
news  agencies  were  not  of  the  least  account.  A  bit  of  original 
poetry  on  Sedgwick  is  given  in  Miscellaneous  chapter.  The  last 
number  issued  bore  date  May  16th,  and  contained  the  notice  of 
Jeff.  Davis'  capture. 

Those  who  liked  fun — and  who  didn't? — tell  wondrous 
stories  of  the  diversions  the  place  afforded.  Certain  ones  do 
not  refrain  from  repeating  the  following,  though  the  joke  ap 
pears  to  be  on  themselves:  They  found  no  end  of  pleasure  in 


LAST  CAPITOL  OF  THE  CONFEDERACY. 

attending  the  dances  which  the  colored  people,  in  honor  of 
their  newly-found  liberty,  were  giving  every  night.  Somehow 
or  other  the  dusky  damsels  preferred  them  as  partners  to  the 
men  of  their  own  complexion.  After  a  while  this  began  to 
rankle  in  the  masculine  African  breasts,  and  they  determined 
to  rid  themselves  of  their  soldier  rivals.  Accordingly,  after 
due  consideration,  they  sent  a  deputation  to  wait  upon  the 
white  dancers,  and  to  tell  them  "dat  de  presence  of  de  white 
gemmen  was  offensive  to  de  ladies,  for  dey  couldn't  stan'  der 
odor."  This  turning  on  the  boys  their  own  oft-repeated  slur 
on  the  negroes'  alleged  scent,  was  effectual,  and  they  tripped  the 


THE   DANVILLE   RAID.  247 

light  fantastic  elsewhere.  The  last  office  of  the  Confederacy 
was  shown,  for  in  the  Benedict  House  on  Wilson  street,  Jef 
ferson  Davis  and  his  Cabinet  established  themselves  April  4th, 
and  there  was  issued  the  last  address  still  breathing  confidence 
in  the  success  of  the  now  lost  cause.  Here  Cabinet-meetings 
were  held,  and  to  this  place  on  the  10th,  John  S.  Wise  had 
brought  the  crushing  news  of  Lee's  surrender,  and  this  place 
Davis  must  have  left  for  North  Carolina  at  once,  for  the  llth 
of  April  he  writes  to  Joseph  E.  Johnston  from  Greensboro. 
Subsequent  years  have  given  to  the  plain  brick  structure  a 
gloss  that  it  did  not  then  possess.  It  is  not  strange  that  some 
citizens  take  pride  in  stating  that  Danville  was  the  last  cap 
tured  of  the  Confederacy,  for  after  leaving  it  the  president  was 
intent  only  on  making  his  escape. 

It  is  also  noteworthy  that,  for  a  few  days,  Danville  was  the 
capital  of  Virginia,  for  on  the  10th  of  April,  just  as  Davis  was 
leaving,  "Extra  Billy''  Smith,  governor,  accompanied  by  an  aide, 
Colonel  P.  Bell  Smith  and  a  servant,  arrived  by  the  way  of 
Lynchburg  on  horseback.  Repairing  at  once  to  the  quarters  of 
President  Davis,  he  found  him  in  great  excitement  getting 
ready  to  depart,  which  he  did  at  10.30  P.  M.  From  Danville 
Governor  Smith  issued  a  proclamation  to  the  people  of  Virginia, 
and  he  remained  here  till  the  reception  of  the  news  of  Lincoln's 
assassination.  The  place  also  received  many  of  the  Richmond 
stores,  wrhich  were  distributed  to  the  rebel  soldiers  as  they 
came  in.  Notwithstanding  all  these  honors,  the  people,  at  the 
time,  were  not  particularly  proud  over  them,  for  they  gave  them 
"heaps"  of  trouble. 

Foraging  parties  were  sent  out  on  the  29th,  chief  products 
being  young  onions  and  corn-meal.  The  soldiers  accompanying 
the  wagons  were  shocked  at  seeing  slave  women  and  girls  at 
work  in  the  fields  with  not  enough  clothing  to  cover  their 
nakedness.  The  last  day  of  April  all  were  mustered  for  pay. 

May  day  was  observed  by  another  foraging  trip  with  usual 
results,  plus  butter,  canteens  of  milk  and  a  large  quantity  of 
apple-jack,  which  has  the  customary  effects  on  its  imbibers. 
For  a  few  days  camp  is  maintained  on  the  hillside,  during  which 
time  former  prisoners  in  the  city  have  a  chance  to  revisit  the 
places  of  their  incarceration  and  to  more  thoroughly  explore 
Danville.  Also,  they  go  to  the  cemetery,  where  the  poor  sol 
diers  dying  here  were  carried.  Their  names,  painted  upon  small 


248  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

boards  by  John  S.  Hall  of  Company  A,  served  to  identify  the 
graves  of  more  than  1300  men,  and  a  source  of  comfort  to  many 
a  parent's  heart.*  By  the  3d  it  became  evident  that  some 
movement  is  afoot,  and  the  regiment  is  gotten  into  shape  for 
departure.  A  part  marches  down  to  the  station,  and  while 
waiting  for  transportation  gets  what  comfort  it  can  from  the 
dancing  of  the  negroes,  who  crowd  about  in  great  numbers. 
Starting  away  at  11  P.  M.  slow  progress  is  made  northward 
on  the  shackley  road,  taking  till  2  P.  M.  of  the  5th  to  reach 
Bilrksville,  where  guard  duty  is  begun.  Other  companies  fol 
low  on  following  days  till  finally  the  Ninth  finds  itself  doing 
duty  along  the  entire  road  from  Danville  to  Burksville,  a  com 
pany  or  more  in  a  place,  headquarters  being  at  Clover  Station. 

Our  duties  were  not  especially  heavy.  We  were  supposed  to 
guard  the  railroad  track  to  prevent  enemies  tearing  it  up;  to 
keep  the  station  or  engine  tanks  full  of  water,  and  to  see  that 
the  neighboring  farm-houses  were  not  pillaged  by  the  soldiers. 
For  the  latter  purpose  one  or  two  men  would  be  stationed  at  a 
house,  and  while  there  lived  on  the  best  the  same  afforded. 
Witness  this  resume  from  one  such  guard :  "Ham  and  eggs,  hot 
hoe-cake  and  biscuit,  milk,  butter,  and  the  unspeakable  luxury 
of  a  bed."  Those  who  find  themselves  near  the  Dan  river  have 
bathing  facilities  not  enjoyed  for  many  a  day.  The  proximity 
of  the  Yankees  prompted  many  of  the  colored  people  to  come 
in,  expecting  to  be  fed  from  the  public  crib,  but  by  and  by 
when  their  numbers  became  excessive,  they  were  made  to  clean 
up  the  camp,  and  finally  to  work  the  pump  by  which  the  tank 
was  filled.  This,  savoring  so  much  of  work,  constrained  them 
to  move  back  to  their  old  quarters,  much  to  their  good  and  our 
relief. 

In  one  camp  errant  pigs  were  a  nuisance,  poking  their  noses 
into  tents  and  uprooting  everything  that  contained  a  possible 
morsel  of  food.  We  were  on  a  bluff  twenty  or  thirty  feet  above 
the  railroad,  and  we  essayed  to  run  these  marauders  off  the 
bank.  No  sooner  would  one  of  these  razor-backed,  sharp- 
snouted  individuals  make  his  appearance  in  the  camp  than 
the  words,  "pig,  pig/'  would  be  shouted  from  tent  to  tent,  im 
mediately  answered  by  the  occupants,  who,  pouring  out,  would 


*The  preserving  of  these  names  was  wholly  owing  to  the  suggestion 
and  care  of  the  Rev.  George  W.  Dame,  referred  to  in  a  later  chapter. 


THE   DANVILLE    RAID. 


249 


250  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

try  to  form  a  line  close  enough  to  force  the  animal  off  the  bluff. 
In  this,  however,  we  succeeded  only  once,  for  in  spite  of  our 
efforts  he  was  able  to  force  his  thin  body  through  our  ranks. 
Just  once  we  managed  to  launch  a  victim,  less  agile  than  his 
fellows,  off  the  verge,  and  we  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him 
describe  a  somersault  or  two  in  its  descent,  accompanied  by 
all  the  traditional  music  made  by  the  pig  under  the  fence. 

It  was  while  doing  duty  along  this  railroad  that  we  picked 
up  Loveless,  a  negro  from  Mechlenburg  county,  of  great  length 
of  heel  and  a  limberness  of  tongue  that  was  marvelous.  Love 
less  may  not  have  been  his  plantation  name,  but  that  is  what 
we  called  him.  He  had  great  power  in  argument  among  his 
own  people,  and  it  was  as  good  as  a  circus  to  have  him  engage 
some  sporadic  darkey  who  had  dared  to  measure  tongues  with 
him.  Much  that  he  said  had  no  meaning,  nothing  but  words, 
but  how  they  did  wilt  his  antagonists!  Some  soldier  usually 
stood  at  his  elbow  and  gave  him  a  word  if  by  any  means  he 
failed.  "Give  him  unconstitutionally,  Loveless,"  says  Sergeant 

E ,  "Yas,  dat's  it;  wat's  you  got  to  say  to  dat  now,  you 

nigger,  unconstidudinatleley,  dat's  what  I  wants  ter  know!" 
He  paralyzed  his  adversary,  though  the  word  was  no  more  to 
him  than  "individual"  was  to  Dr.  Johnson's  fish-woman  of 
Billingsgate. 

In  this  service,  too,  many  of  us  saw  for  the  first  time  instances 
of  snuff-dipping.  The  practice  seemed  well-nigh  general  among 
the  women,  black  and  white.  A  line  of  femininity  seated  on  a 
depot  platform  with  a  pine  stick  projecting  at  a  common  angle 
from  each  one's  mouth  was  not  calculated  to  inspire  much  ad 
miration  of  the  fair  sex  in  a  Northern  man's  mind. 

The  time  of  our  stay  along  this  road  was  marked  by  the 
ripening  of  early  fruit,  and  the  presence  of  the  first  vegetables. 
Few  men  complained  of  our  life  along  this  line  of  railroad. 
The  22d  brought  our  duties  to  an  end,  and  taking  cars  we 
rode  up  through  Burksville,  etc.,  to  Manchester,  reaching  the 
same  on  the  23d,  being  prevented  from  entering  Richmond  by 
the  burning  of  the  bridge  on  the  rebel  evacuation  April  2d. 
Our  halt  was  in  Manchester,  and  here  we  remained  till  the  24th. 
The  brief  interval  was  improved  in  visiting  the  rebel  Capital, 
and  in  looking  up  the  places  that  had  become  famous  in  the 
preceding  four  years.  Some  of  the  companies  had  come  up  early 
enough  to  pretty  thoroughly  "do"  the  city;  "I"  for  instance. 


RICHMOND,,  WASHINGTON,  AND  HOME. 


251 


The  trip  was  so  slow  that  we  had  an  excellent  chance  to  study 
the  land  impoverishment  wrought  by  tobacco-raising.  We 
wondered  that  the  country  held  out  as  long  as  it  did. 


CHAPTER     XXIII. 

RICHMOND,  WASHINGTON,  AND  HOME. 

We  had  an  early  start  on  the  24th,  and  marched  down  to  a 
pontoon  bridge  spanning  the  James,  near  where,  in  the  pre 
ceding  February,  some  of  us  had  taken  the  steamer  down  the 
stream,  for  Libby  prison  with  all  its  horrid  memories  is  at  our 
left,  and  further  up  the  river  is  Belle  Isle,  the  most  infamous 


CAPITOL,  OP  VIRGINIA. 

bit  of  land  in  all  the  national  geography.  The  rank  and  file 
had  no  premonition  of  the  pageant  in  which  we  were  to  bear 
a  part;  but  the  day  was  to  be  a  red-lettered  one  in  our  annals. 
We  entered  the  rebel  Capital  by  17th  street,  thence  filing  into 
Broad,  which  we  traveled  in  company  front,  and  at  shoulder- 
arms.  There  is  a  steep  incline  as  the  street  nears  the  rear  of 
the  State  House,  which,  by  the  way,  has  a  "front-in-rear,"  and 
that  soldier  who,  forgetting  Lot's  wife,  looked  backward,  saw 
the  sight  of  his  life,  for  from  curb  to  curb,  the  street  had  be 
come  a  stream  of  burnished  steel,  glistening  in  the  rays  of  the 
morning  sun.  Those  weapons  had  belched  fire  and  death  from 


252  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Cold  Harbor  to  Petersburg,  through  a  hundred  miles  of  the 
Shenandoah  valley,  back  to  Petersburg,  and  thence  through 
Sailor's  creek  to  Appomattox.  The  men  who  carried  them  had 
the  proud  consciousness  that  they  had  done  their  part  in  driv 
ing  Davis  and  his  government  from  this  very  city,  and  that  the 
stately  edifices  which  they  were  passing,  for  more  than  four 
years  by  Stars  and  Bars  surmounted,  were  now  crowned  by  the 
Stars  and  Stripes,  long  to  float  over  a  reunited  people. 

Some  of  us  even  fancied  that  we  detected  an  approving  smile 
upon  the  bronze  features  of  Crawford's  Washington,*  which 
had  darkened  in  the  gloom  of  secession,  and  that  the  faces  of 
his  Virginia  associates  lightened  at  sight  of  national  blue  and 
of  the  Fathers'  flag.  Generals  H.  W.  Halleck  and  E.  O.  C.  Ord 
reviewed  us  in  passing,  but  we  had  few  eyes  for  shoulder-straps. 
Our  thoughts  rather  were  on  the  late  Confederate  Capital  and 
the  men  who  had  led  their  fellows  to  ruin.  We  remarked  the 
shut-up  appearances  of  its  houses,  and  we  wondered  whether 
the  playing  of  our  bands  did  not  bring  to  their  closed  shutters 
many  a  fair  face  to  take  "just  a  sly  glance  at  us,"  though  the 
people  may  not  have  rejoiced  that  the 

"Flag  had  come  back  to  Tennessee." 

The  Ninth  never  marched  better  nor  with  firmer  step  than 
on  that  memorable  review.  From  Broad  street,  we  crossed  by 
way  of  9th  into  Clay,  and  finally  emerged  from  the  city  by 
Brook  avenue,  and  took  up  our  usual  form  of  marching  through 
a  section  every  foot  of  which  had  been  exposed  since  1861  to 
battle  fire.  Though  we  are  under  no  stress,  we  have  to  step 
off  with  almost  active  hostility  alacrity,  and  more  than  twenty 
miles  are  back  of  us  when  we  go  into  camp  near  Hanover  Court 
House,  where  we  had  our  first  shaking  up,  only  a  few  days  less 
than  a  year  before. 

The  25th  is  a  trying  day  even  for  old  soldiers,  for  the  heat 
is  intense,  and  the  dust  is  everywhere.  Prostrations  are  common, 
and  in  this  year  of  grace  1899,  the  government  is  paying,  in  the 
way  of  pensions,  for  many  cases  of  permanent  disability  this  day 


*Near  the  State  House,  itself  a  tribute  to  Jefferson,  is  an  equestrian 
statue  of  Washington  by  Thomas  Crawford  erected  in  the  early  fifties, 
sometimes  called  his  masterpiece.  At  the  apices  of  a  six-pointed  star 
stand  statues  of  Patrick  Henry,  John  Marshall,  Thomas  Jefferson, 
George  Mason,  Thomas  Nelson  and  Andrew  Lewis. 


RICHMOND,,  WASHINGTON,  AND  HOME.  253 

incurred.  The  brief  halts  where  "dust-brown  ranks  stood  fast," 
or  lounged  by  the  roadside,  were  moments  of  restful  bliss  never 
equaled  elsewhere  in  life.  If  he  remembered  the  hymns  of  his 
boyhood,  many  a  man  thought: 

"My  willing  soul  would  stay, 

In  such  a  frame  as  this, 
And  sit  and  sing  herself  away, 

To  everlasting  bliss." 

It  was  their  very  brevity  that  made  them  so  enjoyable,  and 
the  bugler  was  far  from  popular  when  his  marching  call  rang 
out,  as  it  always  did  many  minutes  too  soon,  followed  by  the 


From  "Hardtack  and  Coffee,"  by  permission. 

A  ROADSIDE  HALT. 

inevitable  order  of  the  officers,  "Fall  in,  fall  in,  men!"  Was 
there  ever  such  a  halt  when  some  voice  did  not  interpret  the 
bugle-notes  thus?  4 

"I  know  you  are  tired,  but  yet  you  must  go, 

So  pack  up  your  knapsack  and  march  along  s-l-o-w." 

When  the  day  is  done  we  camp  at  Chesterfield,  another  re 
minder  of  that  southward  march  of  May,  1864.  We  appear  to 
be  taking  the  route  of  that  year  in  reverse.  There  are  no  sus 
picions  of  a  storm  when  we  pull  our  tents  and  ponchos  over  us 
for  the  rest  to  be  found  so  sweetly  in  the  pine  spore-covered  hol 
lows  of  an  ancient  corn-field,  now  overgrown  with  vigorous 
trees,  but  before  morn  the  active  pattering  of  rain-drops  and  the 
slow  but  sure  gathering  of  water  in  those  same  comfortable  de 
pressions  warn  us  that  a  rainy  day  is  before  us. 


254  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

"Kocked  in  the  cradle  of  the  deep/'  has  its  compensations,  and 
in  this  case  induced  early  rising  and  the  preparation  of  break 
fast  over  a  sputtering  fire.  "Will  we  march  to-day?"  was  on  many 
a  lip,  and  we  had  the  answer  when,  at  8  A.  M.,  we  saw  General 
Wright  and  staff,  poncho-protected,  and  with  the  6th  Corps  flag 
ride  by.  We  also  were  soon  paddling  along  in  the  mud,  which 
by  constant  agitation  became  deeper  and  thicker,  and  nearly 
impassable  to  those  who  brought  up  the  rear.  Oh,  how  wet! 
We  forded  Polecat  creek,  the  water  of  the  same  soaking  the 
contents  of  our  blouse  breast-pockets,  at  any  rate  those  of  men 
of  average  stature.  We  are  not  getting  over  much  ground, 
though  we  seemed  to  be  going  through  a  deal.  For  wagons 
and  artillery  the  way  finally  became  utterly  blocked,  and  a 
camp  was  necessary.  Says  one  youthful  diary-keeper,  "The 
worst  day  ever  passed,  anywhere,  at  home,  or  in  the  army,"  yet 
the  writer  received  his  military  baptism  at  Cedar  Creek.  It  is 
ever  the  latest  evil  that  is  the  worst.  It  has  no  perspective. 
Such  straggling!  Is  there  a  soldier  living  who  can  truthfully 
say,  "I  never  fell  out  of  line  under  any  provocation"?  It  was 
much  easier  marching  in  the  field  than  in  the  highway.  Many 
took  advantage  of  this  fact,  and  for  a  time,  keeping  the  column 
in  sight,  became  voluntary  flankers.  Then  came  the  tempta 
tion  of  a  farm-house,  negro  quarters,  barn  or  tobacco-shed,  and 
ever  since  Eden  man  has  been  yielding. 

It  is  late  in  the  afternoon;  the  army  thoroughly  bedraggled 
is  moving  slowly,  and  much  further  progress  is  clearly  impos 
sible.  A  party  of  men  has  built  fires  along  the  back  side  of  an 
old  tumbled-down,  log  tobacco-shed.  Only  the  gables  and  roof 
remain,  but  the  latter  is  entire,  and  the  Indian  weed  within 
has  been  drying  since  the  war  began.  Coffee  is  drunken  on  the 
lee  side  of  that  structure,  hardtack  nibbled  and  the  usual 
amount  of  profanity  indulged  in,  but  the  rain  does  not  abate. 
Our  regiment  is  a  long  way  ahead.  Though  they  wear  the 
Greek  cross,  the  men  passing  now  are  personally  strangers;  why 
not  crawl  under  that  inviting  roof  and,  getting  dried  out,  sleep 
comfortably  till  morn!  Perhaps  the  rain  will  have  cleared  by 
that  time.  It  does  not  take  long  to  decide,  and  several  blue- 
clad  forms  disappear  through  the  aperture  made  by  pulling  off 
several  lower  boards.  "No  smoking  allowed,"  is  the  order  for 
a  variety  of  reasons,  though  material  abounded:  first,  per 
sonal  safety;  second,  the  provost  guard  will  soon  be  along,  and 


RICHMOND,  WASHINGTON,  AND  HOME.  255 

the  odor  would  excite  a  search  for  the  same;  and  third,  and 
most  important  of  all,  there  are  no  smokers  in  the  party.  How 
ever,  they  are  .all  grateful  that  the  Old  Dominion,  through  rais 
ing  tobacco,  had  afforded  them  such  comfortable  beds,  for  they 
speedily  worked  themselves  down  into  the  very  heart  of  the 
husky  mass,  inviting  dryness,  comfort  and  sleep. 

Never  were  mice  more  whist  than  were  these  boys  when  they 
heard  the  provost  guard  forcing  along  the  stragglers  who  in 
turn  had  halted  at  the  inviting  fires  for  coffee  and  food.  They 
hardly  breathed  when  they  heard  the  same  guard  making  a 
cursory  examination  of  the  nearest  end  of  the  tobacco  pile,  but 
when  the  last  footstep  had  splashingly  disappeared  in  the 
army's  rear,  there  was  nothing  left  to  hinder  repose.  The  patter 
of  the  rain  upon  the  roof,  scarcely  an  arm's  length  away,  re 
minded  the  soldiers  of  similar  nights  in  far-away  Northern 
homes  in  attic  chambers,  when 

"Every  tinkle  on  the  shingles  has  an  echo  in  the  heart, 

And  a  thousand  dreamy  fancies  into  busy  being  start; 

And  a  thousand  recollections  weave  their  bright  hues  into  woof, 

As  we  listen  to  the  patter  of  the  soft  rain  on  the  roof." 

The  rain  is  still  falling,  with  no  sign  of  cessation  when  with 
slowly  recurring  thoughts  of  the  corps  and  a  wonder  as  to  how 
much  further  the  boys  had  gone  on,  grateful  sleep  pins  the  eye 
lids  down. 

Morning  reveals  the  rain  active  as  ever,  with  not  a  sound  of 
departed  comrade.  Being  now  thoroughly  dried  and  unwilling 
to  waste  the  desiccated  results  of  the  preceding  night,  the 
speedily  convened  council  of  war  decides  that  punishment  if 
inflicted  at  all  would  be  no  worse  if  the  halt  were  prolonged 
till  the  storm  were  over,  a  hastily  prepared  breakfast  is  fol 
lowed  by  a  resumption  of  the  tobacco  siesta.  Before  noon  the 
clouds  broke  away,  the  sun  shone  out,  and,  when  the  roads 
seemed  passable,  the  6th  Corps  was  sought.  Luckily  the  rain 
had  prevented  much  further  progress  on  the  preceding  day,  and 
less  than  a  two  miles'  walk  revealed  the  flags  and  tents  of  an 
army  in  camp,  and  how  wet  the  soldiers  were;  where  possible 
they  were  taking  sun-baths  by  way  of  compensation  for  the  in 
voluntary  ducking  of  yesterday,  while  the  dry  and  merry 
stragglers  were  the  envy  of  those  who  had  sozzled  through  the 
day  and  night,  for  the  ground  had  been  too  wet  to  lie  down 
upon. 


256  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

The  27th  and  28th  are  spent  in  camp,,  a  necessary  fact  for 
securing  dryness  and  preparation  for  the  further  march  towards 
Washington.  It  was  while  anchored  here  that  Loveless,  our  Mech- 
lenburg  sable  acquisition,  had  his  confidence  in  his  whilom  pro 
tectors  rudely  shaken  and  at  the  same  an  introduction  to  some 
of  the  qualities  of  gunpowder.  He  and  a  diminutive  Ethiopian 
who  had  fastened  himself  upon  us  as  we  passed  through  Kich- 
mond  were  taking  a  comfortable  snooze,  face  downward,  lux 
uriating  in  the  sunlight.  Removing  the  bullets  from  a  number 
of  cartridges  the  powder  was  distributed  between  the  legs  of 
the  dusky  sleepers.  The  results  of  applying  a  match  to  the 
same  produced  shouts  of  laughter  from  the  mischievous  boys, 
but  the  poor  Africans  fairly  turned  white  with  terror.  There 
after  they  had  an  eye  out  for  possible  fireworks. 

The  march  of  the  29th  is  another  famous  one  with  us,  for  we 
start  away  very  early  in  the  morning,  and  at  9  P.  M.  we  are  en 
camped  near  Marye's  Heights  of  Fredericksburg,  said  to  be 
upon  the  very  ground  over  which  charged  Burnside's  men  in 
that  fatal  fray  of  December,  1862.  On  our  way  thither  we  had 
forded  the  Mat,  Ta,  Po  and  Ny  creeks,  which  united  made  the 
Mattapony  river,  making  in  this  little  more  than  half  a  day  a 
distance  reckoned  all  the  way  from  twenty-one  to  twenty-three 
miles.  It  was  while  taking  this  speedy  march  that  General 
Seymour,  always  so  insistent  on  order  and  military  decorum, 
encountered  a  certain  member  of  Company  H.  No  one  in  the 
regiment  had  lost  more  weapons,  nor  was  there  any  one 
who  cared  less  for  tradition.  As  he  was  taking  his  gunless, 
go-as-you-please  gait,  he  fell  under  the  general's  eye.  At  once 
the  latter  exclaimed,  "Who  are  you,  my  man,  and  where  do 
you  belong?"  The  immediate  reply,  "Private  Harris,  Company 
H,  6th  Corps,  by  G — d,"  must  have  paralyzed  the  West  Pointer, 
for  he  made  no  further  effort  to  secure  information.  Few  men 
in  the  2d  Brigade  have  forgotten  the  donkey  which  bore  some 
part  of  the  headquarters  cooking  outfit,  nor  his  exceedingly 
musical  voice,  which  was  louder  and  stronger  than  a  fog-horn. 
Have  they  forgotten  how  they  used  to  locate  the  brigade  when 
they  straggled  into  camp  at  the  close  of  a  hot  day?  "Just  wait 

till  we  hear  General  's  jackass,  and  that'll  tell  us  right 

where  the  boys  are." 

It  is  sunrise  of  the  30th  when  we  start  away,  passing  through 
Fredericksburg,  with  its  many  traces  of  savage  war.  Surely 


RICHMOND,  WASHINGTON,  AND  HOME.  257 

the  ball  and  shot  riddled  houses  are  the  best  ventilated  struct 
ures  we  have  ever  seen.  We  cross  the  Rappahannock  on  a  pon 
toon  bridge  with  far  less  anxiety  than  did  our  brothers  in  1862. 
The  entire  way  to  Aquia  creek  is  marked  by  the  hand  of  devas 
tation.  Sentinel-like  chimneys  indicate  where  happy  homes 
have  been.  There  is  very  little  indication  of  cultivation  of  the 
soil,  and  the  section  is  rapidly  lapsing  into  its  primitive  condi 
tion.  The  soldier,  however,  is  not  a  reflecting  being,  particu 
larly  when  on  a  rapid  march,  and  we  were  already  talking  of 
reaching  Washington,  just  then  the  6th  Corps'  Mecca.  The  last 
day  of  May  has  a  forenoon's  march  to  the  vicinity  of  Center- 
ville  and  an  afternoon's  rest,  the  heat  being  so  intense  that 
even  our  leaders  advise  a  halt. 

June  1st  saw  the  Ninth  at  the  right  of  the  line  and  stepping 
off  briskly,  before  the  sun  was  up.  Much  of  our  distance  was 
accomplished  before  the  others  had  started.  We  went  into 
camp  near  Fairfax  Court  House  soon  after  noon,  while  the  2d 
Division,  which  held  the  left,  did  not  arrive  till  nightfall.  The 
last  day's  march,  that  of  the  2d,  carried  us  to  the  left,  but  our 
hearts  were  light,  for  our  journey's  end  was  almost  in  sight. 
There  were  tall  men  among  us,  and  they  were  used  to  such 
queries  as,  "George,  do  you  see  any  signs  of  rain  up  there?1' 
or,  "I  say,  Jim,  hand  me  down  a  chaw  of  terbaccer."  This  day 
the  popular  bit  of  chaff  was,  "Oh,  John,  stretch  up  your  neck, 
and  tell  me  when  you  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  Capitol."  All  this 
with  the  interlocutor's  face  looking  skyward. 

Civilization  begins  to  appear  again,  for  man  recuperates  rap 
idly,  and  war's  worst  phases  were  seen  here  in  1861.  One  small 
house  completely  covered  with  a  climbing  rosebush  made  a  last 
ing  picture  in  soldierly  hearts  as  the  route  led  quickly  by. 
Such  blossoms  of  red  and  white,  and  the  beautiful  flower  gen 
erously  bestowed  by  feminine  hands,  lightened  many  a  weary 
step  on  that  day's  march.  Camp  is  pitched  between  Bailey's 
cross-roads  and  Munson's  hill,  a  location  somewhat  famous  in 
the  earlier  days  of  the  war  (General  Keifer  says  Ball's  cross 
roads). 

Streets  are  laid  out  regularly  and  regular  routine  is  followed; 
varied  by  the  distribution  of  soft  bread,  of  which  we  had  seen 
very  little  since  April  2d.  Our  rations,  though  ample,  are 
smaller  than  when  on  the  march,  for  we  do  not  need  our  old 
supply.  The  6th  of  June  brings  brigade  dress-parade,  the  first 
17 


258  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

in  more  than  two  months,  in  which  time  there  has  been  very 
little  of  the  show  nature.  Another  parade  follows  on  the  7tti 
with  flag  presentation  to  General  Keifer.  Evidently  our  head 
officers  like  it.  The  great  review  of  the  Union  armies  had  taken 
place,  May  22d  and  23d,  from  which  the  6th  Corps  was  debarred 
on  account  of  its  presence  in  southern  Virginia.  Our  gallant 
Sheridan  had  asked  that  he  might  remain  to  participate  in  this 
pageant,  but  Grant  had  sent  him  to  the  southward  to  look  after 
Kirby  Smith. 

Now  on  June  8th,  that  all  those  who  had  fought  to  save  the 
Capital  might,  in  triumph,  march  through  its  streets,  the  6th 
Corps  and  the  Cavalry  Division  then  in  Washington  had  their 
day.  We  marched  across  the  Long  Bridge,  and  thence  to  the 
head  of  Pennsylvania  avenue,  and  so  through  the  city  to  George 
town,  where  we  crossed  by  the  Aqueduct  Bridge  to  the  Virginia 
side,  and  so  proceeded  back  to  camp.  The  3d  Division  was  on 
the  left  and  the  2d  Brigade  held  the  left  of  the  division,  col 
umn  closed  in  mass,  two  paces  between  platoons.  On  Pennsyl 
vania  avenue  we  took  wheeling  distance;  a  little  better.  Six 
miles  and  no  halt!  The  heat  was  severe,  so  much  so  that  even 
horse-back  riders  were  overcome,  but  we  saw  the  president, 
and  he  saw  us,  though  he  was  in  the  shade  and  we  were  not. 
General  Grant  also  looked  on.  Be  it  remembered  that  thought 
ful  citizens  along  the  way  kindly  gave  us  water  and  food  of 
all  kinds,  else  the  suffering  had  been  greater  still.  "A  cattle- 
show  of  men,"  writes  one  participant.  Added  to  our  discom 
fiture  there  arose  a  great  thunder-storm,  which  deluged  us  with 
rain,  driving  in  the  dust  of  the  march,  and  sending  us  to  camp  in 
anything  but  the  proud  array  in  which  we  had  set  forth  in  the 
morning.  Reviewing  and  being  reviewed  are  altogether  differ 
ent  affairs. 

Then  followed  a  little  more  than  a  week  of  camp  life,  more 
or  less  monotonous.  We  visited  old  friends  in  neighboring 
camps  and  corps,  read  such  papers  and  books  as  came  into  our 
hands,  and  ate  our  rations  with  measurable  regularity.  For  fun 
we  worked  hard  in  blanket-tossing  miscellaneous  strollers  of 
all  colors  who  ventured  into  our  midst,  including  the  small 
African  upon  whom  the  gunpowder  plot  had  been  worked  on 
our  way  up  from  Richmond.  The  youngster  had  developed  amaz 
ingly,  and  his  impudence  had  gotten  far  beyond  his  discretion, 
when  one  day  he  completely  overstepped  all  bounds  of  decorum 


RICHMOND,  WASHINGTON,  AND  HOME.  259 

by  throwing  a  stone  through  a  company  street.  This  could  not 
go  unpunished,  so  the  blanket  was  brought  out  and  Sambo 
was  hustled  upon  it.  He  had  been  there  before,  but  this  time 
he  was  elevated  till  the  tossers  themselves  feared  he  would  not 
come  down,  having  thrown  him  seemingly  out  of  the  range  of 
gravitation.  When  he  was  released  he  shook  the  dust  of  our 
camp  from  his  feet  saying,  "You  tossed  me  too  high  entirely." 
Good  singers  helped  the  early  night  along  with  songs,  whose 
refrain  would  be  taken  up  from  tent  to  tent.  Very  likely  some 
may  recall  Ed.  C.,  who  had  a  penchant  for  Irish  ditties,  and  how 
he  generally  led  off  with  Finnegan's  Wake,  whose  chorus  once 
having  sung  no  one  could  forget.  It  ran  like  this: 

"Whack,  hurrah,  dance  to  your  partner, 

Welt  the  floor,  your  trotters  shake, 
Listen,  'tis  the  truth  I  tell  ye, 

Lots  of  fun  at  Finnegan's  wake." 

The  last  word,  shouted  from  tent  to  tent,  would  be  heard 
gradually  diminishing  in  canopied  distance,  till  it  was  lost  in 
the  strains  of  the  following  stanza.  A  careful  inventory  of  all 
government  property  is  made  on  the  9th. 

Our  connection  with  the  6th  Corps  is  severed  June  loth,  and 
General  Keifer  issues  the  following  order  in  commemoration 
of  the  breaking  up  of  relations  so  long  maintained: 

FAREWELL   ORDER. 

Headquarters  2d  Brigade,  3d  Division,  6th  Corps,  Army  of 

Potomac, 
Camp  near  Washington,  D.  C. 

June  15th,  A.  D.,  1865. 
General  Orders  No.  28. 

Officers  and  Soldiers:  This  command  will  soon  be  broken  up 
in  its  organization.  It  is  sincerely  hoped  that  each  man  may 
soon  be  permitted  to  return  to  his  home,  family  and  friends,  to 
enjoy  their  blessings  and  that  of  a  peaceful,  free  and  happy  peo 
ple. 

The  great  length  of  time  I  have  had  the  honor  to  command 
you  has  led  to  no  ordinary  attachment.  The  many  hardships, 
trials  and  dangers  we  have  shared  together,  and  the  distin 
guished  services  you  have  performed  in  camp,  on  the  march, 
and  upon  the  field  of  battle,  have  long  since  endeared  you  to 
me.  I  shall  ever  be  proud  to  have  been  your  commander,  and 
will  cherish  a  lasting  recollection  of  both  officers  and  men. 
Your  efficient  services  and  gallant  conduct  in  behalf  of  human 
rights  and  human  freedom  will  not  be  overlooked  and  forgotten 
by  a  grateful  country. 


260  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

I  can  not  repress  the  deepest  feelings  of  sadness  upon  parting 
with  you. 

I  mourn  with  you,  and  share  in  your  sorrow,  for  the  many 
brave  comrades  who  have  fallen  in  battle  and  have  been 
stricken  down  with  disease.  Let  us  revere  their  memories  and 
emulate  their  noble  character  and  goodness.  A  proud  and  great 
nation  will  not  neglect  their  afflicted  families.  The  many  dis 
abled  officers  and  soldiers  will  also  be  cared  for  by  grateful 
people  and  an  affluent  country. 

You  have  a  proud  name  as  soldiers;  and  I  trust  that,  at  your 
homes,  you  will  so  conduct  yourselves  that  you  will  be  honored 
and  respected  as  good  citizens. 

I  shall  part  with  you  entertaining  the  sincerest  feelings  of 
affection  and  kindness  for  all,  hoping  that  it  may  be  my  good 
fortune  to  meet  and  greet  you  in  future  as  honored  citizens  and 
friends. 

J.  WARREN  KEIFER. 

Though  couched  in  excellent  language  and  a  valuable  tribute 
to  our  services,  few  thought  as  much  of  the  separation  then  as 
they  did  later.  Then  home  seemed  nearing,  and  one  boy  wrote, 
"I  can't  state  that  I  had  many  regrets  at  this  separation.  Didn't 
feel  half  so  bad  as  I  did  when  I  left  home." 

The  same  day  we  break  camp  and  march  to  the  Long  Bridge. 
Here  we  halted  while  Colonel  Snyder  wrote  forward  for  orders. 
Later  we  cross  the  bridge,  and  reaching  Pennsylvania  avenue, 
follow  that  to  7th  street,  by  which  we  leave  the  city  and  con 
tinue  our  dusty  march  almost  to  Fort  Stevens,  but  some  coun 
termarching  order  is  received  and  we  deflect  to  the  left,  pass 
ing  through  Tennallytown,  finally  ending  our  march  at  Fort 
Sumner,  and  others  near,  having  covered  nearly  or  quite  twenty 
miles  to  reach  a  point  that  we  might  have  gained  in  half  that 
number  if  we  had  gone  north  from  Ball's  cross-roads  and  so 
crossed  Chain  Bridge.  The  trouble  was  no  one  knew  what  we 
had  started  for  when  we  set  out. 

The  change  from  our  former  camp  to  the  fort  is  a  delight  to 
every  one,  for  it  is  elevated  and  spacious,  the  nearest  fortifica 
tions  to  the  Potomac,  and  the  intervening  Delaware  and  Chesa 
peake  canal  affords  the  best  possible  bathing  facilities.  Our 
first  duty  is  to  clean  house,  and  this  we  do  with  a  will.  Then 
follows  nominal  drill,  but  more  time  is  spent  in  going  out  and 
back,  and  in  lying  on  grassy  slopes,  than  in  the  school  of  the 
soldier,  for  which  many  think  they  have  no  further  use.  Grad 
ually  we  get  back  to  old  mess-house  days,  and  consequent  less- 


RICHMOND,  WASHINGTON,  AND  HOME.  261 

ening  of  personal  work.  There  were  pleasures  in  guard-duty 
done  along  the  aqueduct.  No  one  seemed  to  know  what  we 
were  out  there  for,  but  we  stacked  arms,  ate  our  rations,  and 
enjoyed  life.  Some  of  us  found  the  culverts  away  down  under 
the  road  exceedingly  cool,  so  laying  saplings  above  the  water 
and  spreading  boughs  on  them  they  spent  the  most  of  their 
time  reading  there,  taking  turns  in  watching  the  guns.  ?Tis 
true  that  they  caught  the  colds  of  their  lifetime  in  this  cooler, 
but  it  was  fun.  Then  those  swimming  parties  in  the  canal! 
There  was  no  seaside  formality  in  bathing  costume,  but  hun 
dreds  of  men  and  boys  in  statu  naturae  disported  themselves  as 
few  have  had  a  chance  to  do  since. 

During  this  wait  in  the  forts,  the  order  was  promulgated  per 
mitting  men  to  retain  their  guns  for  a  nominal  sum.    Private 
Harris,  Company  H,  the  man  who  so  readily  answered  General 
Seymour  on  our  rapid  march  to  Washington,  had  paid  for  many 
guns,  costing  him  $13  each  time,  but  now  he  could  get  one  for 
f  6,  but  he  had  plans  of  his  own.    When  the  business  was  all 
settled  and  he  had  a  clear  title  to  the  article,  he  advertised  a 
free  show  in  front  of  his  barracks.    When    the  moment  came, 
there  was  the  private  and  his  gun,  and  there,  too,  was  a  big 
rock  which  was  to  have  a  part  in  the  play.    When  the  throng 
had  fully  gathered,  Harris  looked  the  crowd  over  and  then 
gave  his  shooting-iron  a  farewell  inspection;  saying,  "It's  mine, 
boys,1'  he  raised  it  aloft,  held  by  the  barrel,  and  brought  the 
breech  down  upon  the  rock  with  a  terrible  whack,  shouting, 
"Six  dollars  's  better  ?n  thirteen,  by  G — d."    The  first  blow  sent 
the  wooden  part  spinning;  the  next  drove  off  lock  and  hammer. 
He  pounded  away  till  he  had  made  kindling  wood  of  the  breech 
and  a  hoop  of  the  barrel,  every  time  exclaiming,  "Six  dollars  ?s 
better  'n  thirteen."    Thus  did  Private  Harris  spite  the  War  De 
partment.    His  comrades  applauded,  he  perspired,  and  the  gov 
ernment  went  on  just  the  same. 

On  the  17th  the  1st  Battalion  is  sent  to  Fort  Gaines  and  other 
points:  thus  P>  remains  in  Gaines;  I  goes  to  Battery  Vermont; 
D  to  Battery  Cameron,  and'G  to  Batteries  Parrott  and  Kemble. 
On  the  same  day  the  dress-coats  so  long  stored  in  Washington 
are  received.  June  23d  one  sergeant,  two  corporals  and  twelve 
men  are  sent  from  "I"  to  Reno  as  provost  guard.  Colonel  Mar 
shall  of  the  14th  New  York  Heavy  Artillery  commanding  bri 
gade  inspects  and  finds  fault  with  police  and  discipline.  The 


262  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

24th  General  J.  Warren  Keifer  visits  the  regiments  in  the  sev 
eral  forts.  There  are  trips  to  Washington  and  Georgetown, 
Cabin  John  Bridge  and  to  Tennallytown.  June  30th  comes 
muster  for  pay,  but  the  most  interesting  event  of  the  tarry 
here  is  the  march  July  5th  to  Fort  Totten,  where  the  original 
members  of  the  regiment  with  the  one-year  recruits  of  1864 
are  mustered  out  and  all  others  are  consolidated  and  trans 
ferred  to  the  3d  Battalion,  Companies  I,  K,  L  and  M  of  the  2d 
New  York  Heavy  Artillery.  Never  was  there  a  better  illustra 
tion  of  the  reverse  of  the  famous  adage  of  Mahomet  and  the 
mountain,  for  in  this  instance  more  than  a  thousand  men,  many 
of  them  just  out  of  hospitals,  marched  twenty  miles,  because 
the  officer  designated  to  do  the  mustering-out  duty  was  said  to 
be  ill  and  unable  to  make  the  trip  to  the  river's  side.  There 
must  have  been  other  officers  in  Washington!  Suppose  this 
man  had  died,  then  where  would  we  have  had  to  march?  'Tis  sad 
to  contemplate.  So  the  mountain  went  to  Mahomet;  men 
marched  over  in  line;  they  came  back  as  they  pleased,  and  it 
was  morning  of  the  next  day  before  all  had  returned  to  their 
camps. 

The  8th  of  July  witnessed  the  farewells  to  the  forts,  the 
march  to  Washington  through  Georgetown  and  the  taking  of 
the  train  for  Baltimore,  supper  at  Soldiers'  Rest  or  on  rations, 
and  then  the  train  for  the  North,  not  exactly  palatial,  for  men 
slept  on  the  floor  or  on  the  tops  of  the  cars.  Elmira  is  gained 
at  0  P.  M.  on  the  9th.  Rest  for  the  night  is  sought  in  the  bar 
racks,  on  whose  floor  sleep  is  wooed  till  morn.  Then  the  train, 
the  10th,  to  Watkins,  and  by  boat  to  Geneva!  Here  citizens 
rally  equal  to  the  occasion,  and  prepare  a  dinner  for  us,  to  which 
we  can  not  do  justice  because  of  being  marched  down  to  the 
train;  but  we  dispose  of  a  part  of  it,  and  then  ride  to  Syracuse. 
Food  is  had  at  the  hotels,  and  then  we  go  a  mile  and  a  half  to 
the  camp.  Many  improve  the  opportunity  to  go  home,  but  they 
are  back  to  be  paid  off  the  20th,  and  then  come  the  final  leave- 
taking  and  an  effectual  homeward  face-turning  that  is  to  be 
affected  by  war  no  longer.  Several  boys  in  Company  L,  in  token 
of  their  affection,  present  Captain  S.  A.  Howe  with  a  plain  gold 
ring,  to  be  held  by  him  as  long  as  he  lives,  a  priceless  souvenir 
of  times  when  wearer  and  giver  shared  dangers  together. 

There  was  yet  work  for  some  one  to  do,  and  certain  officers 
labor  through  the  entire  night  to  perfect  the  pay-rolls.     They 


RICHMOND,  WASHINGTON,  AND  HOME.  263 

must  be  prepared  in  the  best  of  order,  for  they  are  to  be  turned 
over  to  the  government  of  the  United  States  for  retention. 
They  are  now,  at  the  end  of  the  century,  so  carefully  retained 
that  no  man  who  helped  make  the  record,  there  given,  can  gain 
a  sight  of  the  same  for  love  nor  money.  Such  is  red  tape! 

The  20th  of  July  is  the  day  which  sees  the  last  assembling 
and  hears  the  final  "Break  ranks!"  Only  a  few  days  less  than 
three  years  from  the  time  when  many  of  these  men  enrolled 
themselves,  they  are  clasping  hands,  and  saying  "Good-by," 
perhaps  forever.  They  have  drunken  from  the  same  canteen, 
slept  beneath  the  same  poncho,  shared  toil  and  danger  till  the 
ties  that  unite  them  are  stronger  than  those  of  kindred.  The 
words  of  their  commander  are  particularly  touching,  and  all 
love  him  the  more  for  them : 

COLONEL  SNYDER'S  FAREWELL  ORDER. 

To  the  Soldiers  of  the  9th  New  York  Artillery: 

The  lieutenant  colonel  commanding  desires  to  express  his 
gratitude  and  thanks  for  your  soldierly  conduct,  for  your  prompt 
ness  in  the  discharge  of  arduous  duties  since  he  has  had  the 
honor  to  command  you,  in  camp,  on  the  march,  and  more  es 
pecially  on  the  battlefield,  where  you  have  won  by  your  true 
courage  the  admiration  of  your  superiors  as  well  as  the  wel 
come  plaudits  of  your  fellow  countrymen. 

Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servants.  Enjoy  the  blessings 
of  peace,  the  fruits  of  your  labors.  Your  reward  is  written  in 
the  history  of  the  nation.  From  the  North  Anna  to  Cold  Har 
bor,  and  in  the  grand  flank  movement  to  Petersburg ;  thence  to 
Maryland  on  the  plains  of  Monocacy,  down  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  Shenandoah  valley,  at  Opequon,  Cedar  Creek, 
and  then  again  to  Petersburg;  and  finally  at  the  last  great 
struggle  of  the  expiring  Rebellion  at  Sailor's  Creek, — you  have 
shown  your  untiring  zeal,  fortitude  and  bravery,  and  you  en 
joy  to-day  that  peace  which  is  only  commensurate  with  the  long, 
noble  service  and  sacrifices  you  have  made  for  your  country. 
You  have  demonstrated  that  the  citizen  soldier  is  equal  to  the 
task,  whether  to  cope  with  a  foreign  adversary  or  crush  a  civil 
rebellion.  And  now  as  you  return  to  your  homes  to  resume  the 
different  avocations  you  left,  may  heaven's  blessings  attend  you. 

Soldiers,  farewell! 

By  order  of 

LIEUT.  COL.  SNYDER. 

Vincent  A.  Kenyon,  lieutenant  and  adjutant. 

No  history  can  accompany  every  man  to  his  home  and  record 
the  happy  greetings  there.  Some  hearths  are  shadowed,  for 


264  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

many  a  gallant  son  who  went  forth  as  bravely  as  those  now  re 
turning  has  fallen  in  his  country's  defense,  and  there  must  ever 
be  a  vacant  chair;  but  these  men  who  doff  their  blue  and  as 
sume  once  more  the  habiliments  of  peace  are  again  absorbed 
into  the  great  public,  all  the  better  for  their  trials  and  tests 
of  strength  and  valor. 

War  for  them  is  ended,  but  its  lessons  they  will  pass  on  to 
their  children  and  their  children's  children  as  the  grandest 
heritage  it  is  theirs  to  give.  When  many  years  shall  have  ren 
dered  more  remote  the  trying  days  of  1861-'6o,  descendants  of 
these  men,  recalling  ancestral  courage,  will  fight  over  again 
their  fathers'  battles  and,  as  the  crowning  praise  of  those  de 
parted,  exclaim,  "They  did  their  duty!" 


CHAPTER     XXIV. 

THOSE  WHO  WERE  LEFT  BEHIND. 

All  did  not  go  home  when  the  regiment  set  its  face  towards 
the  Empire  State.  The  dates  of  muster-in  for  Companies  M  and 
L  were  later  than  those  of  the  other  ten  companies,  and  there 
were  recruits  who  had  joined  all  along  during  the  more  than 
two  preceding  years.  As  the  war  was  over,  many  of  these 
boys  could  never  understand  just  why  they  were  retained,  but 
held  they  were  till  well  into  the  next  October,  and  in  this  time 
many  of  them  put  up  as  stiff  a  game  of  playing  soldiering  as  any 
equal  number  of  men  ever  did. 

Those  remaining  were  consolidated  into  a  battalion  of  four 
companies,  I,  K,  L  and  M,  and  all  under  the  command  of  Major 
S.  B.  Lamoreaux,  and  as  such  became  a  part  of  the  2d  New 
York  Heavy  Artillery.  This  was  the  decree  of  authority,  and 
kicking  did  no. good.  It  would  have  been  some  relief  to  the 
vexation  of  this  retention  if  any  one  could  ever  find  out  the 
slightest  use  that  they  were  to  the  country,  but  our  opinions 
were  not  sought,  and  we  had  to  just  grin  and  bear  it,  though 
it  might  as  well  be  said  at  once  that  a  great  many  did  not  bear  it. 
They  took  French  leave,  so  many  that  the  rolls  are  a  disgrace 
to  any  government  that  made  such  a  condition  possible.  Men 
who  had  carried  guns  from  the  first  day  at  Cold  Harbor  till 


THOSE  WHO  WERE  LEFT  BEHIND.  265 

that  glorious  hour  at  Appomattox,  who  had  traveled  across  the 
state  to  Danville  and  had  followed  Truman  Seymour  on  his 
steeple-chase  to  Washington,  and  all  without  any  more  than 
the  regulation  grumbling,  said  they'd  be  blowed,  or  something 
like  that,  if  they  would  stay  any  longer,  so  they,  in  the  language 
of  the  day,  "lit  out."  Mentioning  this  fact  to  an  officer  who 
attained  high  rank  during  the  war  and  whom  every  veteran 
in  our  regiment  thoroughly  respects,  and  asking  him  his  advice 
as  to  the  treatment  of  these  cases,  he  said:  "The  history  is  that 
of  the  Ninth,  not  of  the  Second.  The  record  of  the  men  should 
close  with  the  regiment  in  which  they  enlisted,"  and  this  course 
has  been  pursued.  At  Albany,  where  the  rolls  are  so  often  con 
sulted  with  reference  to  pensions,  one  is  told  that  desertion 
after  the  close  of  the  war,  when  men  were  thus  retained,  is  not 
considered  a  heinous  offense,  and  that  the  record  is  invariably 
reversed  when  the  proper  application  is  made.  It  was  a  very 
different  matter  from  leaving  when  the  fight  was  on  and  the 
nation  was  in  need  of  every  man  who  could  be  obtained.  Many 
a  veteran  is  now  enjoying  all  that  goes  with  a  long  and  patri 
otic  career,  though  the  record  on  the  last  muster-out  roll  was 
"deserted."  The  wonder  is  that  more  men  did  not  thus  depart. 
One  good  member  of  the  battalion  that  was  held  thus,  says  that 
he  had  been  arrested  for  some  trivial  offense,  and  smarting 
under  the  disgrace,  as  he  esteemed  it,  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  take  his  departure  with  out  leave  or  license,  when  he  chanced 
to  fall  in  with  a  man  much  older  than  himself  who  was  know 
ing  to  the  circumstances  and,  apparently,  read  the  boy's 
thoughts.  He  said  to  the  aggrieved  lad,  "I  know  how  you  feel, 
and  I  sympathize  with  you,  but  you  must  not  do  anything  rash, 
anything  that  you  will  regret  in  coming  years,  or  that  will 
bring  shame  to  those  at  home.  Your  record  is  a  good  one; 
don't  let  any  shade  fall  upon  it.  All  this  trouble  will  be  over 
ere  many  days,  and  I  advise  you  to  stick  it  out."  Unfortunate 
ly  all  the  discontented  ones  were  not  so  well  advised  and  went 
away  almost  in  squads. 

A  little  before  our  late  comrades  were  getting  their  pay  in 
Syracuse,  their  relicts  were  ordered  over  to  the  Virginia  side  of 
the  Potomac.  Accordingly  we  proceeded  to  Georgetown,  that 
same  quaint  old  burg  so  often  visited  by  us,  and  crossed  by  the 
Aqueduct  Bridge,  again  treading  the  soil  of  "Ole  Virginny." 
Thence  we  turned  to  our  right  and  going  northward,  we  became 


266  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

the  guardians  of  the  precious  earthworks  in  this  part  of  the  de 
fenses.  At  least  Forts  Ethan  Allen,  C.  F.  Smith  and  Strong 
caine  under  our  care,  perhaps  others.  Had  it  not  been  so  vexa 
tious  to  men  who  had  plans  in  life,  whom  this  holding  seriously 
hindered,  the  soldiering  that  we  did  here  would  be  simply  ridic 
ulous.  Very  few  Americans  can  become  soldiers  by  trade,  i.  e., 
private  soldiers,  content  with  the  dull  routine  of  camp-duty. 
It  may  do  for  officers,  but  even  they  tire  of  it  and  often  retire 
to  civil  life. 

However,  the  privates  couldn't  retire;  duties  such  as  they 
were  had  to  be  done.  Those  who  went  to  Fort  Strong  retain 
anything  but  pleasant  memories  of  that  first  night  in  the  bar 
racks,  which  looked  well  enough  on  the  outside,  and  within 
did  not  differ  essentially  from  the  many  others  which  they  had 
sampled  in  their  experience.  Confidently  they  spread  their 
blankets  in  the  bunks,  and  in  due  time  put  out  their  lights  and 
undertook  to  sleep,  but  the  slumber  that  we  got  that  night  was 
not  worth  mentioning.  All  the  swearing  of  the  campaigns  of 
1864  and  '65  did  not  begin  to  equal  that  of  this  one  interval. 
Oaths  came  singly  and  in  volleys.  There  were  oaths  English 
and  in  all  the  dialects  represented  in  the  company.  There  were 
oaths  imprecatory  and  oaths  supplicatory.  Every  word  that  had 
ever  been  used  "in  vain,"  this  night  had  a  forcible  reproduction. 
One  listener  who  did  not  swear  (he  is  uncertain  whether  he  had 
any  associates  in  that  category)  says  that  he  was  awakened  by 
the  chorus  of  loud  talk  and  certain  disagreeable  sensations 
about  his  body,  particularly  his  neck,  which  he  constantly 
rubbed,  owing  to  the  irritation  there,  and  each  stroke  of  his 
hand  brought  the  disagreeable  odor  of  bedbugs.  Evidently 
every  man  in  the  barracks  was  doing  the  same,  and  it  was  no 
figure  of  speech  to  say  that  bug- juice  was  in  the  air.  Morning 
revealed  strange  sights.  Each  man  in  the  company  had  a  blood- 
red  streak  around  his  neck,  and  it  was  composed  of  his  own 
blood,  too.  An  inspection  of  our  quarters  was  held  at  once, 
and  though  the  slaughter  of  the  night  had  been  terrible,  there 
were  yet  millions  left.  The  rough  ends  of  each  bunk-board 
was  red  with  bugs,  and  there  was  not  a  crack  nor  crevice  of  the 
old  rookery  that  did  not  hold  its  thousands.  We  were  men  of 
blood,  we  had  passed  through  bloody  scenes,  but  we  had  never 
thought  to  shed  our  life  current  in  any  such  vile  manner  as 
this. 


DRUM  CARRIED   BY   JOHN  H.    DEVOE,   CO.    G,    1862-1865. 


COMPANY   M,   CAPT.    W.    I.    PARRISH,   FORT   ETHAN    ALLEN. 


THOSE  WHO  WERE  LEFT  BEHIND.  267 

Morning  bad  scarcely  more  than  dawned  before  we  proceeded 
to  give  that  long  structure  the  cleaning  of  its  existence,  an 
experience  one  might  think  it  had  never  had  before.  Every 
thing  inside  and  out  was  drenched  in  scalding  water,  and  when 
the  next  taps  came  we  were  ready  for  sleep,  and  the  edifice 
continued  sweet  and  clean  till  the  29th  of  the  month,  when 
there  came  a  storm  of  wind  and  rain  that  completely  wiped  out 
the  barracks  and  rendered  us  shelterless.  It  was  one  of  those 
sudden  cyclones  for  which  all  warm  sections  and  seasons  are 
noted,  only  this  was  somewhat  in  excess  of  any  one  that  we 
had  ever  encountered.  Possibly  it  was  about  the  middle  of  the 
afternoon.  A  storm  of  rain  accompanied  by  some  wind  gradu 
ally  increased  in  violence  till  the  edifice  began  to  creak,  and  ner 
vous  men  made  their  exit  in  spite  of  the  wet.  Others,  more  con 
fident,  kept  their  places  till  the  roof  began  to  lift  and  the  rain 
to  beat  through  the  rapidly  enlarging  cracks;  then  they  made 
leaps  for  their  lives,  getting  out  none  too  soon,  for  the  entire 
roof  was  lifted,  carried  some  distance  and  thrown  down  turned 
almost  completely  around.  We  had  taken  no  covering,  in  most 
cases,  and  as  if  cognizant  of  this  the  weather  proceeded  to  de 
velop  the  worst  hail-storm  that  we  had  as  yet  beheld.  The 
stones  were  as  large  as  robin's  eggs,  and  one  had  to  hold  his 
hands  over  his  head  for  protection.  An  ice-cream  wagon  had 
come  up  from  Washington,  and  was  waiting  at  our  east  door 
when  the  storm  came.  In  very  short  order  it  was  so  mixed 
up  that  it  might  be  doubted  if  the  proprietor  knew  which  was 
driver  and  which  was  horse;  at  any  rate,  the  on-lookers  would 
not  have  risked  a  guess.  The  sight  of  men  holding  on  to  trees 
to  keep  themselves  from  being  blown  away,  we  had  seen  in 
books  descriptive  of  West  India  hurricanes,  but  nothing  of  the 
sort  had  ever  come  under  our  observations  before. 

If  the  storm  had  only  blown  away  some  of  the  useless  forts 
that  we  were  supposed  to  be  guarding  instead  of  the  shelters 
above  our  heads,  we  might  have  regarded  the  same  as  not  an 
unmixed  evil.  As  it  was,  while  men  were  seriously  injured 
in  some  of  the  forts,  for  ours  was  not  the  only  line  of  barracks 
to  suffer,  we  escape  with  only  minor  bruises.  In  the  city  many 
roofs  were  lifted,  and  the  "oldest  inhabitant''  said  he  had  never 
seen  its  equal.  The  immediate  effect  upon  the  dwellers  in  Fort 
Strong  was  a  picking  up  of  their  wet  effects  and  a  departure  to 
Fort  C.  S.  Smith,  where  we  put  up  our  tents  on  the  founda- 


268  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

tions  where  had  formerly  stood  barracks,  since  this  place  suf 
fered  just  the  same  as  we  did. 

If  there  had  been  a  thousand  years  of  life  before  us  and  we 
had  no  definite  plans  in  living,  the  stay  in  these  forts  might 
have  been  enjoyed.  As  it  was  there  was  a  dull  succession  of 
inspection,  parades  of  all  sorts  and  the  make-believe  guard- 
duty  that  was  hardly  creditable  to  any  one  concerned.  The 
constant  query  with  us  was,  "What  are  we  here  for?"  "To  eat 
hardtack,"  says  one  intelligent  soldier.  "Don't  you  see  the 
government  has  so  many  boxes  of  hardbread,  and  if  we  don't 
stay  to  eat  it,  some  of  it  will  be  thrown  away/'  Those  conver 
sant  with  the  subject  assert  that  the  worms  found  in  the  boxes 
this  summer,  were  the  largest  and  fattest  they  had  ever  seen. 
Many  men  assert  that  boxes  of  tack  came  to  the  forts  in  the 
summer  of  1865  bearing  the  date  of  1861.  Someone  of  statistical 
tendencies  once,  before  opening  the  box,  took  it  in  hand  and  gave 
it  several  severe  thumps  upon  the  ground,  thus  settling  any 
easily  moved  contents  to  one  corner.  Then  removing  the  cover 
he  carefully  measured  the  living,  squirming  mass  so  concen 
trated,  and  found  a  full  pint  and  a  half.  This  may  have  been 
above  or  below  the  average. 

The  mess-rooms  had  not  suffered  with  the  general  destruction, 
and  from  that  of  Fort  Smith  the  Capitol  was  plainly  visible.  Sit 
ting  there  at  dinner  one  day,  a  man  remarks:  "I  can  see  the 
Goddess  of  Liberty."  "Oh,  bother,"  says  an  unsentimental  com 
rade,  "can  you  see  any  soft  bread  there?" 

Here  occurred  a  serious  infraction  of  discipline  that  earlier 
in  our  service  would  have  brought  condign  punishment  upon 
us.  At  dinner  a  company  took  exceptions  to  the  food,  and 
swept  everything  from  the  tables  to  the  floor.  The  whole  com 
pany  was  at  once  placed  under  arrest,  the  next  company  being- 
put  over  as  guards.  At  supper,  the  third  company,  having  a 
like  grievance,  just  lifted  the  tables  into  the  air,  and  turning 
them  over  deposited  the  whole  outfit,  bottom  side  up,  on  the 
floor.  There  was  no  other  company  to  guard  this  one,  so  the 
officers  declared  "all  bets  off,"  and  let  us  begin  over  again. 
'Tis  said  that  table  service  was  thereafter  improved. 

Were  there  amusements?  To  tell  the  truth  there  wasn't 
much  else.  The  facilities  for  bathing  in  the  Potomac  were  ex 
cellent.  Passes  could  be  obtained  easily  for  the  exploration  of 
the  neighboring  country,  and  trips  to  Arlington  were  common. 


THOSE  WHO  WERE  LEFT  BEHIND.  269 

Did  we  tire  of  mess-house  fare,  there  were  numerous  restaurants 
easily  accessible  where  a  small  sum  secured  a  good  dinner,  and 
when  night  came  the  cleared-away  platforms  of  some  of  the 
destroyed  barracks  afforded  fine  opportunities  for  dancing. 
Such  dancing!  There  was  little  of  the  polish  of  the  schools  in 
it,  but  it  was  vigorous.  A  handkerchief  tied  to  an  arm  indi 
cated  a  member  of  the  fair  sex,  who  was  led  out  blushingly  to 
the  floor  in  a  Virginia  reel,  or  to  go  through  the  figures  in  a 
plain  quadrille.  Home  talent  furnished  music,  which,  if  not 
exactly  classical,  was  understood,  and  on  pleasant  evenings 
"lights  out"  always  came  too  soon.  It  was  a  hilarious  company 
that  looked  on  and  that  participated,  but  what  possible  good 
were  we  doing  for  our  country  or  for  ourselves? 

Some  men  wearying  of  the  monotony  secured  details  through 
General  O.  O.  Howard  in  Washington  and  went  into  the  em 
ploy  of  the  Freedmen's  Bureau,  thereby  getting  an  absolutely 
unique  experience  in  finding  out  the  ways  of  the  former  bond 
men.  They  visited  Vienna,  Leesburg  and  other  places  in  the 
discharge  of  their  duties,  but  in  the  main  were  in  Alexandria, 
at  the  headquarters  there. 

While  the  non-commissioned  officers  and  privates  were  thus 
fretting  over  their  detention,  there  were  men  high  in  rank  in 
the  regiment  who  were  quite  content.  Of  course  the  general 
sentiment  of  the  men  was  well  known,  for  no  one  made  the 
least  secret  of  his  feelings.  A  Company  M  man  who  was  doing 
hostler  duties  at  regimental  headquarters  almost  gave  his  fel 
lows  a  convulsion  on  reciting  to  them  the  substance  of  a  conver 
sation  indulged  in  by  the  wife  of  our  Colonel  Whistler  while 
he  was  driving  her  and  a  friend  to  Washington.  The  good  lady 
could  not  understand  why  the  men  were  so  anxious  to  go  home, 
saying,  "The  canals  will  soon  be  closed,  and  there  will  be  noth 
ing  for  them  to  do.  Besides,  we  are  situated  so  nicely  here. 
The  children  are  in  the  city  schools,  and  they  are  driven  back 
and  forth  each  day.  I  do  hope  the  men  will  stop  their  com 
plaining  and  let  things  go  on  as  they  are." 

There  were  men  in  the  ranks  who  had  plans  for  the  future 
quite  as  reasonable  as  those  of  the  colonel's  wife — plans,  too, 
that  they  would  have  been  quite  content  to  carry  out  at  their 
own  expense  and  not  at  that  of  the  government.  There  were 
future  lawyers,  doctors,  clergymen  and  business  men  whom 
this  nonsense  was  throwing  out  of  a  clear  year  of  their  respect 
ive  lives. 


270  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

It  must  be  said  that  to  the  soldier  who  liked  to  draw  his 
rations  when  and  where  he  chose,  the  neighborhood  of  these 
forts  furnished  unrivaled  facilities.  Fruit  was  abundant,  and 
vegetables  were  never  better.  If  the  private  didn't  have  all 
that  the  glad  earth  produced,  it  was  because  he  was  too  lazy 
to  go  and  get  it  or  too  honest  to  steal  it,  though  the  latter 
objection  was  seldom  evident  at  this  stage  of  soldiering  in  these 
southern  latitudes.  What  a  relief  the  departure  of  the  last 
regiment  must  have  been  to  the  farmers  of  this  much  ravaged 
locality!  To  be  able  to  reap  where  they  had  sown  and  to  gather 
their  own  fruit  must  have  been  a  delight  indescribable.  Says 
one  irate  farmer  in  the  presence  of  the  very  man  who  had  helped 
himself  to  Agricola's  potatoes  the  night  before,  "Them  d — d 
niggers  are  stealing  me  poor."  "Perhaps  it's  the  soldiers,"  says 
a  listener.  "Soldiers — not  much ;  no  white  man  could  take  stuff 
that  way.  Why,  they  just  dig  the  potatoes  right  out  with 
their  fingers.  They  left  the  print  of  them.  No,  sir,  it's  niggers 
every  time."  One  of  his  most  interested  listeners  was  a  man 
who  had  proved  his  devotion  to  the  Southern  cause  by  selling 
all  his  real  estate  and  investing  the  proceeds  in  Confederate 
bonds.  What  a  house  of  sand! 

If  we  had  been  disposed  to  learn,  we  might  have  gained  a  deal 
in  our  instruction  while  here,  for  Colonel  Whistler  was  a  West 
Pointer,  but  what  did  we  care  for  guns,  swabs,  caissons,  calibre 
et  id  omne  genus  f  The  war  was  over.  That  was  the  cry  forever 
in  the  air  and  on  our  lips,  and  we  had  no  use  for  the  knowledge, 
however  prized  it  might  have  been  had  it  come  months  before, 
when  we  were  intent  on  making  ourselves  ready  for  the  trials 
that  might  be  ours. 

During  the  last  of  August  many  of  us,  particularly  those  who 
had  been  in  rebel  prisons,  were  much  interested  in  the  trial  of 
Captain  Wirz  for  his  cruel  treatment  of  prisoners  in  Anderson- 
ville,  and  we  made  as  many  visits  as  possible  to  Washington 
while  the  case  was  in  progress.  We  found  presiding  over  the 
investigation  our  old  commander  at  Monocacy,  General  Lew 
Wallace,  and  his  judicial  training  had  here  a  good  opportunity 
for  display.  At  the  same  time  it  appeared  to  be  a  chance  to 
develop  the  inhumanity  of  Confederate  treatment  of  Union 
prisoners,  and  only  incidentally  a  trial  of  Wirz,  who  had  simply 
carried  out  the  orders  of  his  superiors.  His  fate  was  sealed 
from  the  beginning,  but  even  men  who  had  suffered  at  his  hands 


THOSE  WHO  WERE  LEFT  BEHIND. 


271 


could  not  help  passing  sentiments  of  pity  when  they  beheld  the 
culprit,  so  far  gone  with  consumption  that  he  had  to  repose 
upon  a  couch,  being  unable  to  sit  during  the  sessions  of  the 
court.  While  his  death  by  hanging  the  following  November 
was  fully  merited,  it  has  seemed  somewhat  strange,  in  the  sub 
sequent  years,  to  see  those  who  directed  him  restored  to  all 
their  ante-bellum  privileges.  Again,  some  of  us  could  never 
understand  how  a  liberty-loving  Swiss,  for  he  was  from  Helve- 


LEW  WALLACE,   IN   WAR  TIMES. 


tia,  could  ever  have  been  induced  to  do  such  dirty  work.     It 
must  have  been  the  result  of  bad  company. 

A  word  as  to  the  regiment  in  which  we  found  ourselves. 
The  2d  Regiment  of  New  York  Heavy  Artillery  had  been  in 
service  much  longer  than  the  Ninth,  or  better,  the  original  or 
ganization  was  formed  in  1861  as  a  regiment  of  light  artillery. 
It  passed  through  various  changes  and  vicissitudes,  and  finally 
settled  down  in  18G2,  like  our  own  regiment,  to  breastwork  mak 
ing  in  the  defenses.  Of  course  the  two  years'  enlistment  expired 


272  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

in  1863,  but  new  and  re-enlistments  had  kept  up  the  organiza 
tion.  Here  it  remained  till,,  like  ourselves,  it  was  routed  out 
by  Grant  and  sent  to  the  front,  reaching  that  dangerous  locality 
May  18th,  about  one  week  before  our  own  advent.  Good  service 
was  rendered  thence  onward  as  a  part  of  the  2d  Corps,  and  like 
the  Ninth,  it  came  back  to  the  defenses  in  June,  1865.  Colonel 
J.  N.  G.  Whistler  and  Lieutenant  Colonel  George  Hogg  were 
entitled  to  our  highest  respect,  and  received  the  same,  but  we 
didn't  like  the  order  that  united  us.  Those  who  were  entitled 
to  discharges  had  received  them,  and  their  residue  had  been 
formed  into  eight  companies,  thus  making  two  battalions.  The 
men  were  principally  from  Oneida,  Herkimer  and  New  York 
counties,  and  the  record  they  made  was  an  excellent  one,  but 
the  first  veteran  of  our  regiment  is  yet  to  be  found  who  ever  an 
nounces  himself  as  other  than  a  member  of  the  9th  New  York 
Heavy.  His  discharge  paper  may  read  one  way,  but  he  always 
talks  another. 

The  longest  night  has  an  end,  and  there  came  a  day  when 
the  bonds  inclosing  us  were  loosed  and  we  were  directed  home 
ward.  It  came  about  through  Special  Order  No.  220,  Depart 
ment  of  Washington,  dated  September  8th,  1865.  Our  dis 
charge  papers  bore  date  September  29th,  but  we  did  not  leave 
Washington  till  after  the  1st  of  October,  going  by  way  of  Phil 
adelphia,  there  enjoying  Cooper  Shop  hospitality  once  more, 
and  thence  to  New  York  city,  where  by  boat  we  were  trans 
ported  to  Hart's  island  in  the  upper  part  of  East  river,  having 
the  very  quarters  formerly  occupied  by  rebel  prisoners,  thus 
giving  some  of  us  a  chance  to  compare  their  accommodations 
with  those  we  had  not  enjoyed,  but  endured  when  in  Confeder 
ate  keeping.  The  general  verdict  was  that  the  rebs  had  fared 
well. 

As  soon  as  muster-out  and  pay-rolls  could  be  prepared,  the 
men  were  paid  in  full  and  allowed  to  depart.  The  record  was 
completed,  and  October  10th  those  who  had  been  left  behind 
in  that  July  separation  were  as  free  as  their  fellows  who  had 
been  enjoying  three  full  months  of  liberty.  It  did  not  take  long 
for  steam  to  transport  the  boys  to  western  New  York  and  to 
what  all  of  them  prized  most  highly — their  homes. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  273 

CHAPTER     XXV. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 
INCIDENTS. 

First  One  Killed. — The  first  person  in  the  regiment  to  be  killed 
by  gunshot  was  a  woman,  Mrs.  Chauncey  Hale.  She  came  to 
the  company  during  the  winter  of  1862  and  1863,  and  was  de 
tailed  as  laundress  for  the  company.  The  captain  of  Company 
F  built  a  house  for  the  Hales  at  the  foot  of  the  company  street, 
and  here  Hale,  his  wife  and  two  children  lived  happily  until 
the  sad  accident  occurred  which  ended  the  life  of  his  wife.  One 
morning  after  Hale  had  been  on  guard-duty  and  had  come  to 
his  quarters  for  his  breakfast,  and  while  he  was  yet  at  the 
table,  the  call  for  guard-mount  was  sounded;  he  hurriedly  arose 
from  the  table  and  hastily  putting  on  his  equipments,  his  wife 
assisting  him,  and  as  she  buckled  his  belt  she  gave  him  a  push, 
saying  playfully,  "Hurry  now,  or  you  will  get  pricked  and  put 
on  extra  duty  for  being  late."  He  held  his  gun  in  his  hands, 
his  thumb  on  the  hammer,  and  in  the  same  playful  manner 
answered,  "Take  care  or  I  will  shoot  you."  The  gun  was  a 
Belgian  rifle  and  went  off  half  cocked,  his  thumb  slipped  and 
the  gun  was  discharged,  the  large  bullet  passing  through  her 
head,  scattering  her  brains  over  her  motherless  children.  Hale 
was  nearly  distracted  with  grief.  The  company  had  the  re 
mains  embalmed  and  sent  home.  The  children  were  placed  in 
the  Orphan  Asylum  at  Auburn,  N.  Y.  Hale  was  never  himself 
after  this  sad  occurrence,  but  seemed  broken-hearted  and  de 
spondent.  He  remained  in  the  service,  however,  till  the  end  of 
the  war.  Tide  page  52. 

The  Shell  Burst. — Soon  after  this  sad  affair,  another  accident, 
if  it  could  be  called  an  accident,  happened  in  the  same  company. 
A  man  by  the  name  of  Moody  found  a  30-pound  shell,  and 
brought  it  into  camp.  This  was  just  after  the  company  had 
moved  to  Fort  Bayard.  He  took  out  the  fuse,  and  emptied 
part  of  the  powder  out  and  then  went  to  Conrad  Bostler,  a 
little  German  that  was  detailed  to  assist  the  company  cooks, 
and  told  him  that  if  he  would  drop  a  coal  of  fire  in  the  shell 
he  would  see  some  sport,  as  it  would  make  a  great  squib.  The 
shell  was  near  the  head  of  the  company  street  and  near  the 
18 


274  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

captain's  quarters.  So  Conney,  as  the  litttle  Dutchman  was 
called,  dropped  the  coal  of  fire  in,  and  there  was  a  great  ex 
plosion.  Two  boys,  Chauncey  Eunyan  and  Alpheus  Long, 
were  badly  wounded,  Runyan  losing  his  foot;  Long's  limb  was 
saved.  Several  more  of  the  men  narrowly  escaped  with  their 
lives.  Moody  made  his  escape  during  the  excitement  of  caring 
for  the  wounded,  and  was  never  captured,  ^7^de  page  53. 

He  Got  Left. — The  boys  of  the  old  138th  will  remember  that 
Company  —  had  a  fine-looking  lieutenant;  his  mustache  was 
coal  black,  and  he  took  with  the  ladies,  and  although  he  was 
a  married  man,  he  delighted  in  a  little  flirtation  with  the  girls 
when  the  opportunity  presented  itself.  On  the  trip  to  New 
York  after  leaving  Auburn  on  the  way  to  Washington,  the 
train  stopped  at  Schenectady.  The  girls  as  usual  flocked  to 
the  station  to  see  the  soldiers,  and  the  dashing  lieutenant  lost 
no  time  in  getting  up  a  flirtation.  So  absorbed  was  he  with  the 
fair  ones,  he  did  not  hear  the  warning  whistle,  or  the  "all 
aboard"  of  the  conductor,  and  the  consequence  was  the  train 
pulled  out  without  him,  and  he  did  not  catch  us  till  we  got  to 
New  York  city.  The  boys  took  in  the  situation,  said  nothing, 
but  waited  for  the  proper  time  to  come.  Now  the  lieutenant 
was  an  expert  drill-master,  one  of  the  very  best  in  the  regiment, 
and  he  delighted  in  drilling;  he  was  ambitious  to  put  Company 
F  at  the  head,  as  one  of  the  best  drilled  companies.  He  would 
march  backward  before  the  company  with  the  hilt  of  his  sword 
in  his  right  and  the  point  in  his  left  hand,  and  as  his  left  foot 
would  come  to  the  ground  he  would  call  out  "Left,  left,  left," 
when  one  of  the  mischievous  boys  who  had  become  weary, 
answered  back  "At  Schenectady."  The  drill  for  the  time  being 
was  suspended,  and  never  more  did  the  lieutenant  call  out 
"Left,  left,"  but  after  that  day  he  was  very  careful  to  keep  the 
cadence  of  the  step  by  calling  out  "Hep,  hep,  hep." 

How  He  Got  Out. — When  the  regiment  was  in  the  old  camp  at 
Auburn,  and  was  full,  ready  to  march,  the  discipline  was  very 
strict;  passes  were  granted  only  in  exceptional  cases;  the 
guards  were  doubled  to  prevent  any  of  the  men  from  getting 
outside  of  the  lines,  but  there  was  one  man  by  the  name  of 

.  He  was  called  by  the  boys,  even  at  that  early  day  in 

the  life  of  the  regiment,  "Whiskey  Bill."  This  slippery  fellow 
would  elude  the  vigilance  of  the  guard,  and  would  go  and  come 
at  his  pleasure.  But  on  the  last  days  of  the  regiments  remain- 


MISCELLANEOUS.  275 

ing  in  camp,  a  close  watch  was  kept  on  Bill,  but  on  the  last 
afternoon  of  the  last  day,  word  caine  to  the  captain  that  Bill 
had  gone.  The  police  guard  were  hustled  out  at  double-quick, 
Colonel  Seward's  private  carriage  had  just  come  on  the  grounds, 
and  the  captain  sprang  into  the  carriage  by  the  side  of  the 
lieutenant  colonel.  The  driver  put  on  the  lash,  and  away  they 
went  towards  the  city,  to  intercept  if  possible  the  escaping  sol 
dier.  The  guards  had  got  the  start  of  the  officers,  and  by  the 
time  they  had  arrived  at  the  intersection  of  the  river  with  the 
street  the  guards  had  captured  their  man,  and  were  bringing 
him  back  to  camp.  Colonel  Seward  and  the  captain  turned 
their  carriage  and  drove  alongside  of  the  guard  and  their  pris 
oner.  Now  the  corporal  in  charge  of  the  squad  was  unarmed, 
as  arms  were  not  over-plenty  nor  over-effective,  and  as  the  un 
armed  corporal  walked  by  the  side  of  his  unarmed  prisoner, 
some  one  in  the  great  crowd  of  people  that  was  thronging  the 
street  remarked,  "Well,  you  have  got  a  prisoner,  sure;  what  did 
he  do?  what  caused  his  arrest?"  etc.,  and  Bill,  the  prisoner, 
grasping  the  situation,  quick  as  a  flash,  answered  back,  "Oh, 
the  mean  cuss  was  trying  to  desert,  but  I  nabbed  him/'  and  the 
poor  corporal  hung  his  head;  was  so  dumbfounded  he  could  not 
make  an  explanation.  Bill's  head  was  up  in  the  air  and  the 
poor  corporal  easily  passed  as  the  prisoner.  The  guard  marched 
their  prisoner  to  the  guard-house,  which  stood  on  the  side-hill, 
the  front  level  with  the  ground,  while  the  back  was  five  or  six 
feet  above  the  ground,  and  for  this  reason  no  guard  was  sta 
tioned  at  the  back  where  there  was  a  window.  Bill  saw  the 
open  window,  turned  to  the  officer  of  the  guard,  made  a  low 
bow,  saluted  him  in  military  style,  ran  to  the  back  window, 
sprang  through  to  the  ground  and  was  soon  lost  in  the  great 
crowd.  The  mystery  of  his  getting  through  the  guards  was 
found  out.  He  would  go  to  the  cook-house,  which  was  situated 
on  the  bank  of  the  river,  inside  the  lines  of  course,  and  the 
water  to  supply  the  cook-house  was  all  carried  from  the  river 
by  men  especially  detailed  for  this  purpose.  Bill  saw  his  op 
portunity,  and  taking  advantage  of  the  same,  he  would  go  to 
the  cook-house,  take  two  of  the  pails  and  start  for  the  river; 
the  guards  thinking  he  was  one  of  the  detail  would  let  him  pass 
without  challenge,  and  when  he  got  over  the  river  bank,  he 
would  throw  away  his  pails,  go  to  the  city,  get  drunk  and  have 
a  general  blow-out. 


276  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Poor  Bill,  though  he  was  wild,  never  thought  of  deserting, 
but  was  one  of  the  bravest  of  the  brave,  and  on  many  a  hard- 
fought  field  he  would  sing,  "Rally  round  the  flag,"  and  other 
lively  songs,  to  cheer  on  the  boys.  He  served  to  the  end  of  the 
war. 

He  Didn't  Put  It  In. — Some  of  the  men  who  enlisted  to  defend 
the  flag  in  its  hour  of  peril  were  not  possessed  of  a  college 
diploma,  not  even  the  educational  ability  to  write  a  letter  to  the 
dear  ones  at  home.  This  disability  was  hard  to  bear,  especially 
when  there  was  a  young  girl  at  home  connected  with  the  cir 
cumstances.  What  can  not  be  cured  must  be  endured,  so  they 
did  the  best  they  could  under  the  circumstances,  These  young 
men  would  find  some  one  who  could  spread  ink  well,  and  they 
would  lay  in  with  him  to  write  letters  to  Mary  Ann  and  Susan 
Jane  at  home. 

Charles  Greenfield  was  an  experienced  school  teacher  before 
enlistment,  and  he  was  selected  to  do  much  of  this  correspond 
ing  where  so  many  tender  lines  were  needed.  Charley  was 
conducting  a  love  correspondence  for  an  Auburn  boy  and  was 
doing  his  level  best  for  his  patron.  As  he  was  gifted  with  the 
faculty  of  writing  poetry  as  well  as  prose,  he  got  this  corre 
spondence  up  on  high  G,  and  he  put  in  so  many  high-sounding 
words,  expressive  of  so  much  love,  he  was  sorely  puzzled  how 
to  get  down  to  earth  once  more  and  properly  end  this  red-hot 
love-letter.  He  has  told  me  in  confidence,  since  the  war,  that 
he  could  see  no  way  to  properly  end  that  letter  but  to  pop  the 
question,  fair  and  square.  But  for  this  he  hardly  dared  to  take 
the  responsibility,  so  in  his  perplexity  he  called  the  man  he 
was  writing  for,  and  privately  asked  what  more  the  man  wanted 
to  be  put  in  that  particular  letter,  thinking  that  the  man  would 
suggest  something  that  would  help  him  out,  or  at  least  ease 
him  down  from  the  high  and  lofty  perch  on  which  he  now  was, 
for  Charley  had  just  filled  that  letter  with  high-sounding  love 
words  and  phrases.  The  man  says,  "Read  the  letter  and  let  me 
hear  what  you  have  wrote  to  her,"  so  Charley  read  the  letter, 
the  big  words  nearly  choking  him,  and  the  lines  were  so  ten 
der  they  would  hardly  hold  together.  The  man  listened  with 
all  earnestness,  hearing  every  word  and  comprehending  but  a 
few  of  them  perhaps,  until  the  last  one  was  read.  "And  now," 
said  the  writer,  "what  more  shall  I  say  to  her?"  The  man 
turned  his  head  on  one  side,  scratched  it  for  a  moment,  and 


MISCELLANEOUS.  277 

slapping  Charley  on  the  shoulder  said,  "You  just  put  in  agri 
culture,  and  let  that  letter  go."  Of  course  "agriculture"  was 
Greek  to  him,  but  he  thought  it  was  a  large  word  and  was  a 
fitting  finale  to  his  high-toned  love-letter. 

The  Chaplain. — All  of  the  old  boys  well  remember  Chaplain 
Mudge,  and  how  well  the  good  man  loved  to  hunt  quails. 
When  the  regiment  was  guarding  Washington,  building  forts, 
making  roads,  etc.,  the  staff  officers  had  a  picnic,  but  when  we 
went  to  the  front,  the  long  marches  came,  sometimes  lasting 
all  night.  It  was  after  one  of  these  long  and  dusty,  weary  night 
marches  the  regiment  was  filing  into  a  field  for  breakfast.  The 
colonel  and  his  staff  sat  on  their  horses  as  the  men  filed  in;  the 
good  chaplain  was  covered  with  dust,  nearly  dead  for  want  of 
sleep,  his  eyes  filled  with  sand,  and  as  Company  F  passed  in, 
one  of  the  boys  saw  the  forlorn  condition  of  the  preacher,  and 
perhaps  to  encourage  him,  or  to  put  him  in  remembrance  of  the 
happy  days  now  past  and  gone,  he  called  out,  "Hello,  chaplain! 
do  you  find  any  quails  down  here?" laying  emphasis  on  "quails." 
The  boys  shouted  with  laughter,  and  for  the  time  being  forgot 
how  tired  they  were;  even  the  chaplain  smiled. 

"For  Your  Coffee." — In  speaking  of  the  boy  who  saluted  the 
chaplain  as  narrated  above,  I  am  reminded  of  another  instance, 
which  furnished  quite  a  lot  of  fun  for  the  boys.  It  was  at  the 
Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  when  Sheridan  was  twenty  miles  away, 
as  the  boys  well  remember  the  old  Ninth  and  the  6th  Maryland 
were  thrown  out  as  a  forlorn  hope  to  stay  the  awful  tide  of  on 
coming  rebels.  We  lay  on  the  ground  waiting  for  the  gray 
host,  which  was  coming  on  double-quick.  The  order  is,  "Hold 
your  fire,  men,  until  you  are  ordered  to  fire."  It  was  a  trying 
time  for  the  men — the  stragglers  from  the  two  broken  corps 
rushing  over  them,  the  heavy  fire  of  the  on-coming  Johnnies; 
but  not  a  gun  was  fired  until  the  order  came,  "Attention,  fire!" 
This  boy,  who  was  from  Auburn,  and  had  a  habit  of  beginning 
every  sentence  with  "And  say,"  sprang  to  his  feet,  brought 
down  his  musket  with  a  slam,  and  said,  "And  say"  as  he  pulled 
the  trigger,  "put  that  in  your  coffee,  and  before  that  is  cold 
I  will  give  you  another  one." 

The  President's  Quid. — While  the  regiment  lay  at  Camp  Mor 
ris,  D.  C.,  President  Lincoln  and  Secretary  W.  H.  Seward  visited 
the  regiment,  and  the  officers  were  presented  to  the  president 
and  the  secretary  after  the  dress-parade.  While  the  presiden- 


278  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

tial  party  was  looking  on  the  parade,  Mr.  Lincoln  threw  out  a 
chew  of  tobacco  onto  the  parade-ground.  One  of  the  boys  of 
—  Company  saw  it,  and  when  the  parade  was  dismissed  he  went 
and  picked  up  the  old  chew  and,  wrapping  it  carefully  in  a 
paper,  prepared  to  save  the  same  as  a  souvenir,  but  the  boys 
teased  him  so  unmercifully  and  put  other  old  chews  with  the 
president's,  that  the  poor  man  threw  away  the  whole  outfit. 
What  a  relic  that  would  be  to-day!  Fit  companion  to  Washing 
ton's  false  teeth. 

No  Rest  Even  in  Death. — The  body  of  Lieutenant  Stoyell  had 
not  been  beneath  the  sod  of  the  cemetery  of  his  own  Moravia 
a  month  when  the  severest  freshet  in  the  history  of  the  town 
swept  through  the  village,  not  only  destroying  buildings,  but 
actually  wiping  out  parts  of  the  cemetery  through  undermining 
it.  We  are  told  that  about  an  acre  of  ground  was  thus  washed 
away  and  the  landmarks  effectually  destroyed.  Among  other 
bodies  thus  disturbed  was  that  of  Lieutenant  Stoyell.  As  the 
coffin  was  swept  down  the  stream,  it  was  followed  by  a  strong 
swimmer,  who  succeeded  in  grasping  one  of  the  handles  and 
finally  swam  with  it  to  a  clump  of  willows,  near  which  he 
secured  it  till  the  waters  subsided  and  the  casket  could  be 
again  interred.  The  man  who  thus  risked  his  own  life  for  the 
body  of  a  friend  was  Alonzo  Arnold,  a  discharged  soldier  of  the 
lllth  New  York. 

Cold  Harbor. — June  3d  as  the  regiment  was  moving  up  to' the 
charge,  Sergeant  Jefferson  L.  Martin  said  to  his  comrades,  "I 
shall  not  come  out  of  this  alive."  Of  course  he  was  rallied  for 
his  forebodings,  but  the  company  had  not  gone  far  in  the  woods, 
with  the  bullets  flying  like  hail-stones,  before  Martin  was  shot 
through  the  body.  There  on  bended  knees  he  gave  his  watch, 
pocket-book  and  other  keepsakes  to  John  Hutchinson  to  be 
delivered  to  his  mother  and  sister  in  Cayuga.  Good-by  was 
said,  and  the  line  moved  on.  The  watch  was  loaned  to  Dr. 
Chamberlain,  and  when  he  was  captured,  was  taken  by  the 
rebels.  The  other  items  with  the  dying  message  were  taken  to 
the  loved  ones  as  requested. 

Monocacy. — "I  left  by  the  railroad-bridge,  and  I  could  feel 
my  heart  thump  my  vest  every  step  at  the  sight  of  the  poor  boys 
in  the  river,  some  wading,  others  floating  by,  some  wounded, 
slowly  climbing  the  banks,  and  all  the  time  the  air  was  full  of 
lead  and  iron.  On  getting  across,  I  saw  four  men  carrying  an 


MISCELLANEOUS.  279 

officer  on  a  stretcher.  A  shell  burst  very  close,  when  one  of  the 
men  said,  'That  finishes  him/  and  they  lay  the  body  down. 
Four  soldiers  are  carrying  a  wounded  man  in  a  piece  of  tent. 
One  of  them  giving  out,  I  took  his  place,  trying  to  reach  a 
covered  wagon,  but  it  hurries  off  when  we  are  only  twenty  feet 
away.  We  lay  the  boy  down  and  he  does  not  complain,  only 
says,  'Good-by.'  A  bursting  shell  kills  one  of  those  with  nu% 
hits  me  in  the  hand  and  goes  through  my  haversack.  Then  a 
bullet  grazes  my  thigh  and  I  am  in  a  bad  way,  when  a  cavalry 
man  offers  me  a  ride  and  we  escape." 

For  a  Chance  to  Pray. — One  of  the  youngest  boys  in  the  regi 
ment  was  A.  B.  of  —  Company,  though  these  were  not  his  ini 
tials.  His  Sunday  school  superintendent  began  raising  a  com 
pany,  so  the  mother  was  willing  that  the  lad  should  enlist. 
The  religious  meetings  held  in  the  regiment  have  been  repeated 
ly  mentioned.  At  one  of  them,  while  the  regiment  was  making 
forts,  the  boy  experienced  religion,  and  being  a  lad  of  sterling 
parts,  he  intended  to  live  up  to  his  professions,  but  he  found 
difficulty  in  attending  to  his  duties  as  he  thought  he  ought. 
When  the  company  with  others  came  back  to  the  defenses,  in 
the  summer  of  1864,  he  had  more  trouble  than  ever  in  finding 
a  moment  of  quiet  for  the  praying  he  wished  to  do. 

He  stood  it  as  long  as  he  could,  but  finally  settled  with  his 
own  conscience  that  it  would  not  be  wrong  to  "run  the  guard" 
in  order  to  get  a  chance  to  pray.  Of  course  it  would  be  a  viola 
tion  of  order,  and  if  caught  he  would  be  placed  under  arrest; 
still,  he  determined  to  run  the  risk,  Accordingly,  one  night 
after  "taps,"  when  the  camp  lights  were  all  out,  stealing  quietly 
around  the  corner  of  the  captain's  tent,  and  waiting  till  the 
guard  was  up  at  the  other  end  of  his  beat,  A.  B.  ran  quickly 
over  the  rifle-pit,  and  in  a  minute  more  was  hidden  in  the 
shadow  of  a  large  oak-tree  which  stood  a  few  rods  away.  Here 
the  knelt  by  a  large  stone,  and,  in  a  low  tone  of  voice  which 
could  not  reach  the  guard,  "prayed  to  his  Father  in  secret." 
Refreshed  in  spirit,  he  returned  as  he  came,  successfully  eluding 
the  vigilance  of  the  guard.  Night  after  night  was  this  repeated 
with  like  success,  until  Company  —  was  ordered  to  rejoin  the 
regiment  and  return  to  the  front. 

In  the  final  breaking  up  before  Petersburg,  the  boy  was  sur 
prised  at  having  his  commanding  officer  say  to  him,  "I  am 
afraid  I  shall  not  come  out  of  this  fight  alive,  and  I  should  like 


280  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

to  have  you  stay  as  near  me  as  possible,"  but  the  officer  came 
through  all  right  while  the  lad  was  wounded.  Before  he  got 
back  to  the  regiment  the  war  was  over  and  the  boys  were  dis 
charged.  In  the  following  winter,  at  revival  meetings  in  Au 
burn,  A.  B.  was  doing  his  part,  though  in  a  silent  way,  till  one 
night  he  heard  a  negative  given  to  the  minister  who  asked  a 
gentleman,  sitting  back  of  him,  to  go  forward  for  prayers. 
Turning  about  A.  B.  saw  his  old  commander,  and  he  was  moved 
to  ask  him  to  do  what  he  had  just  declined  doing.  He  yielded, 
and  with  his  soldier-boy  went  down  the  aisle  to  the  altar,  where 
he  was  converted.  When  there  came  an  opportunity,  the  ex- 
officer  arose  and  spoke. 

A  man  of  ability  and  a  good  speaker,  his  words  were  received 
with  intense  interest  by  the  large  congregation.  He  began  by 
describing  the  little  fort  north  of  Washington  that  had  been 
garrisoned  by  Company  —  under  his  command  nearly  two  years 
before. 

Imagine  our  boy's  surprise  as  he  proceeded  to  tell  of  the 
mysterious  manner  in  which  a  young  soldier  frequently  ran  the 
guard  immediately  opposite  the  commander's  quarters  after 
"taps"  at  night,  returning  each  time  after  a  few  minutes'  ab 
sence.  Picture  his  further  agitation  when  the  captain  related 
how  curiosity,  as  well  as  regard  for  camp  discipline,  had  im 
pelled  him  to  follow  the  offender  one  night,  when,  to  his  amaze 
ment,  he  discovered  that  the  man  had  run  the  guard  in  order 
to  get  a  chance  to  pray. 

Then  said  the  officer,  "I  went  back  to  my  quarters  resolved 
that  I  would  never  arrest  a  man  for  running  the  guard  to 
pray.  It  was  on  account  of  his  way  of  living  that  I  wanted  him 
near  me  in  the  Petersburg  fight  when  I  expected  to  go  under. 
To-night  there  was  only  one  man  in  the  world  who  could  have 
induced  me  to  take  the  step  that  I  have  taken,  and  that  was 
this  soldier-boy,  and  I  thank  God  that  he  took  me  by  the  hand 
to  do  as  I  have  done." 

The  officer,  still  a  young  man,  became  a  preacher  of  the  Gos 
pel,  and  is  now  the  pastor  of  a  large  Baptist  Church  in  Califor 
nia.  A.  B.  prepared  for  college,  was  graduated  with  honor 
from  an  eastern  college,  and  for  many  years  has  been  one  of  the 
most  successful  clergymen  in  the  Methodist  Church.  This 
praying  episode  has  somewhat  the  flavor  of  Washington  and 
his  prayers  at  Valley  Forge. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  281 

A  Wounded  Dutchman. — At  Opequon  creek  a  member  of  our 
band  was  helping  in  the  hospital,  and  had  in  hand  a  Dutchman 
whose  side  had  been  struck  by  a  bullet.  The  missile  had  taken 
an  upward  turn  on  striking  one  of  the  lower  ribs,  but  his  cloth 
ing  was  stiff  with  blood  and  he  was  faint  from  hunger  and  loss 
of  blood.  He  stood  trembling  and  shaking  like  an  aspen  leaf, 
saying,  "Dot  bullet  got  into  me  somehow.  I  don't  leeve  any 
more.  Oh,  my  poor  leetle  family!"  He  shook  so  badly  that  the 
attendant  had  difficulty  in  helping  him,  and  finally  said,  "Keep 
still  and  stand  up  if  you  can."  At  this  moment  as  the  wounded 
man's  garments  were  moved  the  bullet  dropped  into  the 
helper's  hand.  "Oh,  mein  Gott/'  says  Dutchy,  "dot  tarn  bullet 
got  out  from  me  somehow,"  and  he  was  a  live  man  from  that 
moment.  He  ceased  trembling,  drank  a  cup  of  warm  coffee, 
after  having  his  side  dressed,  went  to  bed  on  some  clean  straw, 
and  in  less  than  ten  minutes  was  fast  asleep. 

He  Shot  too  Close. — There  is  not  a  man  of  Company  F  but  re 
members  Lyman  Coleman.  Well,  Lyman  was  with  the  com 
pany  on  that  never-to-be-forgotten  day,  October  19th,  1864. 
Sheridan  had  come,  and  we  were  on  the  fierce  charge  that  swept 
the  rebels  like  chaff  before  us.  The  ranks  had  been  filled  by 
men  from  any  and  all  companies ;  the  orders  were  "fall  in  where 
you  are."  The  result  was  that  strangers  were  in  the  ranks. 
It  so  happened  that  a  tall  man  from  some  other  regiment  fell 
in  the  front  rank  just  before  Coleman.  All  went  well  till  we 
cleared  the  woods  and  came  to  the  open  field.  Before  us  was  a 
small  ravine  and,  just  over  this  swale  or  ravine,  the  rebels  were 
posted  in  full  force,  and  they  met  us  as  we  came  out  of  the 
woods  with  a  deadly  fire.  Indeed,  it  seemed  as  if  nothing  could 
live  under  it.  The  line  wavered  for  a  moment,  and  then  down 
the  slope  they  started,  the  tall  stranger  just  in  front  of  Cole 
man.  As  the  fire  was  hot  and  Lyman  was  anxious  to  put  in  his 
work,  he  brought  up  his  musket  and  fired;  he  was  not  over- 
careful  perhaps,  and  the  consequence  was,  he  fired  so  close  to 
the  head  of  the  man  in  front  that  the  latter's  hair  and  ears  were 
badly  burned,  and  the  man  was  as  mad  as  a  hornet.  He  turned 
about  to  poor  Coleman  and  said  in  angry  tones,  "You  old 
scoundrel,  you  shot  so  near  my  head  you  have  nearly  killed  me," 
etc.,  "and  I  am  going  to  whip  you,"  and  he  held  his  gun  in  his 
hand  while  preparing  to  chastise  poor  Lyman.  We  took  in  the 
situation  of  things,  and  saw  there  was  a  chance  for  fun.  so  we 


282  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

yelled  out,  "Stand  up  to  him,  Coleman;  we'll  stand  by  you.'' 
Lyman  gathered  courage  and  said  to  his  antagonist  in  his 
squeaking  voice,  peculiar  to  him,  "See  here,  you  son  of  a  gun, 
if  you  want  to  fight  so  bad,  right  down  there  is  plenty  of  rebels 
to  fight  without  licking  me."  Well,  there  is  a  serious  question 
in  my  mind  to  this  day  whether  General  Sheridan  or  Lyman 
Coleman  did  the  most  at  that  particular  time  to  steady  us  and 
cheer  us  on. 

He  Lived. — Soon  after  the  6th  Corps  returned  from  the  Shen- 
andoah,  and  had  joined  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  Company  L 
of  the  9th  was  put  in  charge  of  Battery  Lee,  located  about  a 
half  mile  to  the  left  of  the  signal  tower,  and  near  the  angle 
where  the  reverse  rear  line  began  its  curve,  this  battery  was 
composed  of  six  thirty-pound  Parrott  guns,  and  a  battery  of 
six  Cohorn  mortars,  mounted  at  reserve  picket  three-fourths 
of  a  mile  in  front  of  the  battery.  On  the  25th  of  March,  when 
the  2d  Brigade  charged  and  pressed  back  the  enemy's  pickets 
close  under  their  main  line,  the  writer  was  on  detail  with  the 
mortar  battery,  and  as  General  Keifer  had  ordered  our  officers 
not  to  use  the  mortars,  since  their  distance  from  the  enemy 
would  not  admit  of  effective  service,  we  were  at  liberty  to  see 
the  "show."  A  portion  of  the  brigade  had  massed  on  both 
flanks,  and  a  little  to  the  rear  of  the  picket-post;  their  move 
ments  could  be  easily  seen  by  us.  As  the  charge  was  progress 
ing  in  fine  style,  we  noticed  the  rifle-pits,  scattered  quite  thickly 
over  the  field,  held  nearly  all  of  them  a  soldier,  no  doubt  as 
rear  guard(?)  — so  convenient  to  fall  into  in  passing,  and  so  decid 
edly  safe,  but  that  horrible  gang,  the  provost  guard,  soon  dis 
turbed  their  quiet  with  their  " get  to  the  front, 

git!"  I  noticed  one  soldier  start  from  a  rifle-pit,  with  gun  at  a 
charge  as  though  he  proposed  to  take  the  Confederacy  alone. 
He  had  gone  about  five  rods  when  he  fell  as  prone  as  if  struck 
with  a  solid  shot,  his  knapsack  flying  over  his  head  and  lying 
in  front  of  him.  We  spoke  together  of  that  "poor  fellow,"  that 
he  had  made  his  last  charge,  etc.  The  balls  up  to  this  time 
had  been  reminding  one  of  a  hail-storm,  and  no  one  wondered 
that  he  should  fall.  There  was  a  certain  fascination  in  looking 
at  this  "fallen  hero."  After  fifteen  minutes  or  so,  I  saw  our 
prostrate  friend  slowly  raise  his  head  and  take  a  look  over  the 
top  of  his  knapsack.  Some  one  said,  "Guess  that  boy  will  live 
to  fight  another  day."  Sure  enough,  when  the  hail  let  up  a 


MISCELLANEOUS.  283 

little,  he  got  up  very  nimbly  for  a  "dead  man,"  and  such  a  move 
for  the  rear,  no  man  ever  made  before. 

BETWEEN   THE   LINES. 

Between  the  lines  in  the  gloaming, 

When  battle  has  sunk  to  rest, 
And  the  boom  and  shock  of  cannon 

Are  hushed  as  a  maiden's  breast, 
The  vidette,  as  he  stands  watching, 

Or  marches  his  lonely  beat, 
Is  thinking  of  home  and  dear  ones 

Gathered  at  their  mother's  feet. 

Then  it  is  the  sounds  of  camp-life 

Come  sweetly  on  evening  air, 
The  bugle  and  good- night  drum-beat 

Sound  "lights  out,"  that  banish  care; 
Yet  faintly  and  still  more  faintly, 

Their  cadence  will  softly  fall 
On  our  ears  as  we  dreamily  listen 

To  the  good-night  bugle-call. 

There  come  from  a  distant  bastion, 

That  floats  high  the  " Stars  and  Bars," 
Tones  of  a  band  sweetly  playing 

The  "Star  Spangled  Banner"— that's  ours; 
Union  men  listening  in  quiet, 

Of  our  flag  that  leads  the  fight, 
Have  kindlier  feeling  for  "Johnnies," 

And  wish  them  kind  good  night. 

Sweet  music  will  bring  men  together, 

Of  whatever  name  or  tongue; 
The  loved  songs  of  home  and  country, 

A  touchstone  that  rights  the  wrong. 
The  Confederates  listen  to  "Dixie" 

As  played  by  a  Union  band, 
And  answer  ''Marching  through  Georgia," 

We  with  their  "My  Maryland." 

Then  when  both  are  weary  of  playing, 

The  hour  to  turn  in  has  come, 
They  join  what  is  one  the  world  over, 

Both  playing  dear  "Home,  Sweet  Home." 
There's  many  a  voice  that's  husky, 

And  many  an  eye  that's  dim, 
As  they  close  the  evening's  music 
With  that  tender,  touching  hymn. 

CHARLES  A.  FORD, 

Company  L. 
Homer,  N.  Y. 


284  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

NINE  AND   THE    NINTH. 

At  one  of  the  regimental  gatherings,  J.  S.  Koys  of  Company 
D  called  attention  to  the  interesting  manner  in  which  the  nu 
meral  9  was  woven  into  the  history  of  our  organization,  calling 
attention  to  Cold  Harbor,  Winchester  and  Cedar  Creek,  which 
were  fought  on  days  including  the  number.  This  thought  might 
be  considerably  extended,  for  as  stated  in  the  narrative  the 
order  converting  the  regiment  from  infantry  to  artillery  was 
dated  Dec.  9th.  The  designated  numeral  for  the  same  came 
Dec.  19th.  May  9,  1864,  the  2d  Battalion  is  preparing 
to  leave  Fort  Foote.  June  9th  of  the  same  year  finds  us 
in  the  midst  of  Cold  Harbor's  struggle.  July  9th  takes  us  to 
Monocacy  and  its  direful  story.  September  19th  and  October 
19th  are  matters  of  history  with  their  tales  of  Winchester  and 
Cedar  Creek,  while  not  only  our  own  story,  but  that  of  the 
nation  seems  to  culminate  April  9th  of  1865  at  Appomattox. 

Incidentally  it  might  be  said  that  the  corps  to  which  the  reg 
iment  belonged  was  only  a  nine  inverted. 

G.  A.  R.  POSTS. 

The  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  exists  to  keep  alive  the 
memories  of  the  strife  of  1861-'65  as  well  as  to  exemplify  fra 
ternity,  charity  and  loyalty. 

In  looking  over  the  names  of  nearly  700  posts  of  this  organ 
ization  in  New  York,  it  is  pleasant  to  note  the  following  named 
for  men  who  served  with  us;  there  may  be  others,  but  we  are 
sure  of  these: 

Seward  Post,  No.  37,  of  Auburn  may  include  the  thought  of 
the  great  secretary  as  well,  but  the  Ninth  certainly  followed 
one  of  that  name. 

Keeslar  Post,  No.  55,  of  Wolcott  recalls  the  two  brothers, 
Daniel  and  Simeon  of  Company  E,  though  both  were  Huron 
boys,  and  both  shot  to  their  deaths  April  2,  1865,  at  Petersburg. 
How  aptly  Mrs.  Browning  wrote  in  her  "  Mother  and  Poet" : 

"Dead!  one  of  them  shot  by  the  sea  in  the  east, 
And  one  of  them  shot  in  the  west,  by  the  sea. 
Dead!  both  my  boys!" 

George  C.  Stoyell  Post,  No.  155,  Moravia,  calls  up  the  fair 
face  and  trim  form  of  the  young  lieutenant  of  Company  E, 
whose  body,  bereft  of  life,  was  sent  home  to  its  burial  long  be- 


MISCELLANEOUS.  285 

fore  his  comrades  had  entered  upon  the  Battle  Summer.  A 
victim  of  fever,  he  was  none  the  less  a  sacrifice  to  country. 

Myron  M.  Fish  Post,  No.  406,  Ontario,  reminds  us  of  Winches 
ter,  that  fairest  stand-up  fight  of  the  war,  when,  though  death- 
stricken,  father  and  brother  could  not  halt  in  duty's  path  longer 
than  to  print  a  kiss  on  his  dying  lips  and  then  were  swept  on, 
they  to  glorious  victory,  he  to  immortality. 

Selah  Cornwall  Post,  No.  632,  Merrifield,  suggests  the  pleas 
ant-faced  gentleman  who,  fever-stricken,  was  the  first  officer  to 
be  mustered  out  by  that  remorseless  agent,  Death.  There  was 
mourning  in  Company  E  when  their  captain  died. 

Anthony  Stacey  Post,  No.  647,  Elbridge.  At  the  word  we 
see  a  face  of  firm  yet  gentle  features,  a  form  sturdy  and  strong, 
one  of  three  brothers,  serving  at  the  same  time  in  Company  L. 
Surviving  the  war,  he  later  passed  over  to  the  eternal  camping- 
ground, 

"beyond  the  silent  sea, 

Where  those  who  marched  with  Sherman 

Are  camped  with  those  of  Lee." 


REGIMENTAL    POSTMASTER. 

"Nail-to-go-out!" — If  the  oft-repeated  expression  sometimes 
deteriorated  into  "Mail-t'-gwout,"  the  boys  didn't  care.  They 
weren't  particular  about  pronunciation;  and  they  did  feel  very 
kindly  towards  the  soldier  postman  when  he  brought  them 
letters  from  home,  but  they  couldn't  help  blaming  him  when, 
for  any  reason,  he  persisted  in  skipping  their  names.  "Write 
me  a  letter,  love,  when  you  are  away,"  needed  just  a  little 
change  in  wording,  but  he  was  a  queer  mortal,  in  war-times, 
who  did  not  have  somebody,  somewhere,  from  whom  a  missive 
might  be  expected.  "Do  they  miss  me  at  home?  do  they  miss 
me?"  was  a  refrain  often  on  our  lips,  and  the  man  who  brought 
us  news  of  "Home,  Sweet  Home,"  was  our  own  detailed  com 
rade,  who  gradually  grew  to  be  the  best  known  man  in  the  regi 
ment. 

John  Tidd,  Company  E,  performed  this  very  pleasant  duty 
while  in  the  defenses,  at  least  for  some  of  the  forts  and  camps, 
but  probably  the  office  was  longest  identified  with  Henry  P. 
Howard  of  Company  H,  who  knew  his  business  from  A  to  Z. 
His  appointment  dates  from  the  following  order: 


286  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Headquarters  9th  New  York  Artillery, 

Fort  Simmons,  D.  C.,  Aug.  13,  1863. 
Special  Orders  No.  166. 

Sergeant  Henry  P.  Howard,  Company  H,  this  regiment,  at 
his  own  request  is  hereby  reduced  to  the  ranks,  and  appointed 
regimental  postmaster  of  this  regiment. 

By  order 

J.  WELLING, 
Colonel  commanding. 
W.  DeW.  Pringle,  adjutant. 

With  his  postbag,  Howard  is  well  remembered  by  hundreds 
who  received  many  a  letter  at  his  hands.  So  well  did  he  per 
form  his  duties  that  he  was  promoted,  as  appears  in  the  follow 
ing: 

Headquarters  2d  Brigade,  3d  Division,  6th  Army  Corps. 

November  16th,  1864. 
Special  Order  No.  51.    Extract  [11]. 

Private  Henry  P.  Howard,  9th  New  York  Heavy  Artillery, 
is  hereby  detailed  and  announced  as  brigade  postmaster  of  this 
brigade.  He  will  report  for  duty  without  delay. 

By  command  of 
COLONEL  J.  WARREN  KEIFER. 

By  J.  T.  Rorer,  captain  and  A.  A.  A.  G. 

Official.    William  I.  Parrish,  lieutenant  and  acting  adjutant. 

After  the  advancement  of  Comrade  Howard,  his  place  was 
taken  in  the  regiment  by  H.  H.  Wheeler  of  Company  A,  later 
a  lieutenant  in  Company  E,  who  remained  till  promoted. 

Whoever  filled  the  place,  he  had  duties  to  perform,  sometimes 
exceedingly  heavy,  but  pride  in  his  work  usually  kept  him  up 
to  the  faithful  discharge  of  his  obligations. 

FLAGS   OF   THE   NINTH. 

September  8th,  three  days  before  the  departure  of  the  138th 
from  Camp  Halleck,  the  ladies  of  Auburn  presented  the  regi 
ment  with  a  stand  of  colors.  When  the  change  in  regimental 
hues  came  in  1862,  the  blue  banner  bearing  the  escutcheon  of 
the  state  was  given  by  the  officers  to  General  Seward,  in  whose 
library  it  is  now  suspended,  while  a  red  one  was  substituted 
for  it. 

These  banners  saw  the  campaigns  of  the  Ninth  and,  tattered 
and  torn,  came  home  with  us,  no  enemy  carrying  off  any  en- 


BATTLE-FLAG  AND   STANDARDS   OF  THE   9th   NEW  YORK   HEAVY  ARTILLERY 


MISCELLANEOUS.  287 

sign  of  ours,  but  our  return  was  not  early  enough  to  allow  of 
our  participation  in  the  glorious  exercises  in  Albany  July  4, 
1865,  when  in  the  presence  of  Grant,  Wool,  Wallace,  Kilpatrick, 
Schofield,  Butterfield,  Sickles,  Ricketts  and  a  host  of  others, 
with  addresses  by  Butterfield,  Governor  Fenton  and  the  Rev. 
E.  H.  Chapin,  the  colors,  then  returned,  were  consigned  to  the 
perpetual  keeping  of  the  state. 

We  had  not  left  Washington  then,  and  not  till  the  20th 
were  we  paid  off  and  our  banners  became  seekers  for  custo 
dians.  Brave  hands,  many  of  them  mouldering  back  to  clay, 
had  borne  them,  but  now  their  journey  over,  they  must  rest 
with  similar  trophies  beneath  the  roof  of  the  Capitol.  August 
3,  1865,  the  flags,  five  in  number,  were  carried  to  Albany  and 
there  deposited.  In  the  catalogue  of  the  Bureau  of  Military 
Record  they  are  mentioned  as  one  national,  one  regimental  and 
three  guidons. 

Carefully  kept  within  glass  cases,  they  and  those  of  other 
regiments  merit  and  receive  the  admiring,  almost  reverential, 
gaze  of  the  thousands  who  visit  the  magnificent  Capitol  of  the 
Empire  State.  All  are  labeled  and  are  inscribed  with  the  names 
of  the  engagements  in  which  their  bearers  participated.  Upon 
our  flag  may  be  read,  Cold  Harbor,  Petersburg,  Monocacy,  Ope- 
quon,  Cedar  Creek,  Petersburg,  April  2d,  and  Sailor's  Creek. 

The  traveler  in  Britain  finds  in  church  and  castle  some  re 
minder  of  the  prowess  of  the  fathers.  In  Canterbury  Cathedral, 
for  more  than  600  years  the  coat  of  the  Black  Prince,  worn  by 
him  at  Poictiers,  has  inspired  the  hearts  of  Britons  to  be  like 
him — brave,  determined,  true. 

Battle-flags  impress  their  lessons  on  the  minds  of  youthful 
beholders,  and  serve  to  keep  alive  the  spirit  of  national  pride 
and  love  of  country.  It  matters  not  who  may  be  governor,  nor 
what  party  controls  the  Legislature,  these  colors  and  their 
memories  are  far  above  and  beyond  politics ;  they  represent  not 
the  passing  phase  of  political  life;  they  stand  for  country  itself. 

To-day  with  bated  breath  and  with  quickened  heart-beats, 
the  rambler  beyond  seas  may  see  in  Altorf,  covered  with  glass, 
banners  borne  by  liberty-loving  Swiss,  at  Mortgarten  before 
Columbus  set  forth  on  his  westward  journey.  Let  us  hope  that 
centuries  hence,  travelers  from  the  East  and  from  the  West 
may  stand  beside  these  flags,  still  preserved,  and  hear  some  cus 
todian  say,  "They  were  followed  by  men  who  forsook  the  pat^s 


288  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

of  peace  and  by  the  dread  ordeal  of  battle  drove  slavery  from 
the  land  and  made  America  from  ocean  to  ocean 

'The  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave.'  " 

MILES   MARCHED   BY   THE   NINTH. 

One  of  the  most  difficult  tasks  essayed  by  any  compiler  is  to 
ascertain  just  how  many  miles  this  or  that  body  walked  during 
its  term  of  service.  Had  the  men  marched  as  the  crow  flies, 
with  the  scale  range,  the  answer  could  be  easily  given,  but 
armies  did  not  move  in  that  way.  They  usually  took  the  long 
est  way,,  if  there  was  any  difference.  Again,  if  they  had  fol 
lowed  the  railroad  tracks,  the  answer  could  be  more  easily 
given,  but  if  such  a  course  were  attempted  it  had  to  be  very 
much  modified,  as  in  our  march  to  Danville.  Thousands  of  men 
could  not  keep  along  that  single  line,  though  it  marked  their 
direction.  \  i 

The  very  best  that  any  one  can  do  is  to  study  the  roads  and 
routes  as  carefully  as  possible,  and  then  to  make  estimates, 
having  the  table  of  railroad  distances  with  the  map  scale  by 
him.  It  were  a  long  list  to  follow  each  day's  march  from  our 
departure  from  Belle  Plain,  during  those  days  in  May;  so  it 
will  suffice  if  certain  parts  thereof  are  kept  together;  thus  from 
Belle  Plain  we  walked  62  miles  to  reach  the  North  Anna.  Very 
likely  all  these  items  are  under  rather  than  over  the  fact,  owing 
to  the  routes  we  pursued.  From  the  North  Anna  till  we  were 
placed  before  Petersburg,  126  miles;  to  Ream's  Station  and  re 
turn  with  sundry  other  journeyings  about  Petersburg,  28  miles. 

From  Petersburg  to  City  Point  and  from  Frederick  City  to 
Monocacy  Junction,  21  miles.  From  Monocacy  to  Ellicott  City, 
45  miles. 

Washington  to  Snicker's  gap  and  return,  125  miles;  to  Fort 
Richardson  and  return  and  to  Harper's  Ferry,  thence  to  Freder 
ick  City,  110  miles. 

In  the  valley,  making  no  allowance  for  digressions,  guarding 
wagon-train,  foraging,  etc.,  we  marched  from  Harper's  Ferry 
to  Fisher's  hill  and  back,  120  miles;  then  we  walked  up  to 
Mount  Crawford,  and  finally  came  back  to  Harper's  Ferry,  216 
miles.  i 

In  our  final  Petersburg  rambles  we  marched  and  counter 
marched  fully  25  miles;  then  when  we  set  out  after  Lee,  we 


MISCELLANEOUS.  289 

rushed  over  100  miles  of  distance  before  catching  him;  next 
we  came  back  to  Burksville,  50  miles;  the  raid  to  Danville 
followed,  125  miles,  and  finally  we  took  foot  and  walker's  line 
from  Richmond  to  Washington,  fully  85  miles  as  we  walked. 

In  this  compilation  no  estimate  has  been  made  of  the  long 
marches  before  leaving  the  defenses,  nor  of  those  that  followed 
our  return,  nor  again  of  the  distances  accomplished  by  boat  or 
rail,  but  the  figures  already  given  make  an  aggregate  of  1238 
miles.  Does  not  the  regiment  merit  a  place  with  Sheridan's 
"Foot  Cavalry"? 

OUR  CORPS  CONNECTIONS. 

Without  access  to  the  regimental  books,  by  the  order  of 
Daniel  Lamont,  Cleveland's  secretary  of  war,  effectually 
barred  to  all  inspection,  it  is  practically  impossible  to  name  the 
brigades  and  divisions  with  which  the  regiment  was  at  first 
connected ;  but  on  the  formation  of  the  22d  Corps  in  February, 
1863,  the  task  became  easier.  The  first  commander  was  Major 
General  S.  P.  Heintzelman,  who  was  succeeded  in  October, 
1863,  by  Major  General  C.  C.  Auger,  who  remained  at  the  head 
of  the  defenses  through  the  rest  of  the  war. 

In  the  newly  formed  22d  Corps,,  which  included  all  the  troops 
in  the  defenses  of  Washington,  the  Ninth  was  at  first  assigned 
to  the  2d  and  later  to  the  3d  Brigade,  Haskin's  division.  Joseph 
A.  Haskin  was  a  grizzled  veteran  who  had  seen  service  in  the 
Mexican  War,  losing  an  arm  at  Chepultepec.  He  is  well  remem 
bered  by  the  soldiers.  He  was  New  York  born,  of  the  class  of 
1839,  West  Point,  and  died  in  Oswego  August  3d,  1874. 

Our  position  as  to  Army  Corps,  on  going  to  the  front,  has 
been  already  stated,  but  it  is  here  repeated  that  when  in  the 
fighting  ranks  the  1st  and  2d  Battalions  were  in  the  2d  Brigade, 
3d  Division,  6th  Corps,  the  3d  Battalion  in  the  Artillery  Bri 
gade,  but  same  division.  This  same  battalion  served  in  the  1st 
Brigade,  Hardin's  division,  22d  Corps,  from  July  10th,  1864, 
into  September,  and  from  September  22d  till  it  left  the  defenses 
in  Colonel  Keim's  provisional  brigade.  Thence  onward  the 
regiment  was  together. 

While  in  the  Shenandoah  valley  we  were  of  the  Army  of  the 

Shenandoah,  but  on  returning  to  Petersburg  we  were  again  in 

the  Army  of  the  Potomac.     In  this  connection  it  should  be 

stated  that  Brigadier  General  Martin  D.  Hardin  was  another 

19 


290  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

one-armed  officer,  having  lost  his  left  arm  in  a  guerrilla  skirmish 
near  Catlett's  Station  in  December,  1863.  He  also  was  a  West 
Pointer,  class  of  1859. 

THE    REGIMENTAL   BAND. 

"Here  we  will  sit  and  let  the  sounds  of  music 
Creep  in  our  ears." 

The  stay  of  the  regiment  in  the  defenses  and  its  enlargement 
to  the  heavy  artillery  standard  gave  an  opportunity  for  the 
making  of  a  brass  band,  an  adjunct  which  added  much  to  the 
enjoyment  of  camp-life.  While  fife,  drum  and  bugle  are  ever 
associated  with  the  camp  and  march,  there  was  a  place  for  the 
broader  and,  possibly,  more  melodious  brazen  instruments.  Of 
course  the  regiment  was  rich  in  material,  and  it  is  an  interest 
ing  comment  on  the  health-giving  tendencies  of  lung  exercise 
that  so  many  of  the  members  of  our  band  are  yet  alive.  Of 
course  they  were  not  enlisted  as  musicians,  with  the  exception 
of  possibly  a  drummer,  but  were  detailed  on  the  recommenda 
tion  of  those  who  were  conversant  with  their  musical  capabili 
ties. 

Access  to  the  order-book,  so  carefully  kept  in  Washing 
ton,,  but  which  is  sealed  to  the  only  persons  whom  it  could  in 
the  least  interest,  would  tell  us  just  when  the  enterprise  was 
started.  It  is  probable  that  the  period  of  incubation  must  have 
been  at  least  a  month,  for  it  was  April  6th,  1863,  that  the  first 
public  appearance  was  made,  and  then  the  chick  may  be  said 
to  have  had  its  first  peep.  It  was  not  fully  fledged  until  it  had 
received  a  deal  of  instruction  and  had  filled  the  neighboring 
groves  full  of  melody  in  practicing. 

Though  "Belle  Brandon'7  was  an  early  favorite,  the  repertoire 
of  the  band  gradually  grew  to  include  all  the  popular  music 
of  the  day.  The  story  is  told  that  one  of  the  field-officers  on 
dress-parade  in  the  infantile  period  of  the  band's  existence  sent 
word  wanting  to  know  if  they  could  not  give  him  some  other 
tune  than  "Belle  Brandon,"  which,  though  beautiful,  had  grown 
a  trifle  stale.  Some  survivors  never  hear  the  tune  to  this  day 
without  recalling  the  incident. 

The  nucleus  of  the  organization  was  the  old  Rose  Brass  Band, 
seven  members  of  which  were  in  Company  H.  While  Lieuten 
ant  Harmon  may  not  have  been  an  active  wind-blower,  he  was 


REGIMENTAL    BAND. 

W.  F.  Hickok.  A.  B.  Harmon.  E.  H.  Pond. 

F.  Smocker.  Jacob  Sager.  Alvah  Lowe. 

D.  Marshall.  E.  B.  Wing.  J.  J.  Seelye.  P.  T.  Shorkley. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  291 

of  course  friendly  to  the  project,  and  his  brothers  were  members. 
Jacob  Sager  of  Clyde,  the  leader,  had  played  with  the  Hose 
members  if  he  had  not  belonged  to  their  body. 

As  we  remember  them  and  their  music,  the  impression  re 
mains  that  they  could  play  as  well  as  any  similar  organization 
in  the  defenses.  They  helped  out  all  state  occasions  amazingly, 
and  the  power  of  music  to  charm,  etc.,  was  generally  acknowl 
edged.  Shakespeare  could  have  found  in  the  ranks  of  the  Ninth 
very  few  if  any  men  with  no  music  in  their  souls,  hence  none 
who  were  fit  for  treasons. 

As  a  reward  for  the  melody  that  they  gave  us,  they  were 
excused  from  carrying  guns,  but  they  were  expected  to  assist 
in  caring  for  the  wounded  and  to  help  in  all  hospital  duties. 
That  they  generally  did  their  duty  in  this  direction,  no  one 
questions.  There  were  usually  twenty-two  men  present  for 
duty  in  the  band.  As  there  were  changes  from  time  to  time, 
the  total  number  belonging,  in  all,  was  considerably  above  those 
figures. 

While  the  band  was  supposed  to  be  at  headquarters,  there 
were  never  any  doings  of  note  at  Fort  Foote  when  the  band  was 
not  invited  down,  and  it  always  had  a  good  time  while  it  dis 
pensed  sweet  music  for  the  occasion.  The  boys  could  not,  how 
ever,  live  on  sweet  sounds  alone,  hence  the  pleasures  of  the  table 
that  followed  their  public  appearances  are  yet  treasured  with 
delight. 

When  the  regiment  was  having  one  of  its  regular  visits  to 
Harper's  Ferry  or  its  immediate  vicinity,  a  death  occurred  in 
the  hospital  of  a  member  of  the  Ninth,  and  Surgeon  Sabin  de 
termined  to  vary  the  monotony  of  camp-life  by  a  military  burial. 
All  proceeded  properly  till  the  procession  was  ready  for  the 
march;  then  when  he  was  expected  to  give  the  signal  for  a 
selection  appropriate  to  the  occasion,  Leader  Sager  found  his 
wits  wandering,  and  he  could  not,  for  his  life,  think  of  a  single 
marching  piece  that  would  be  sufficiently  sad.  Nothing  better 
than  the  long  metre  Doxology  occurred  to  him,  so  he  gave  word, 
and  his  boys  pumped  away  on  the  familiar  notes.  In  vain  did 
the  surgeon  essay  to  get  his  horse  into  step,  but  it  would  not 
work;  then  turning  to  the  perspiring  leader  he  said,  "What 
kind  of  a  tune  do  you  call  that?  I  thought  I  could  march  to 
almost  anything,  but  I'll  be  blamed  if  I  can  get  this  horse  into 
step  with  Old  Hundred."  Just  then  Jake's  wits  came  back  to 


292  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

him,  and  with  a  premonitory  wave  he  switched  the  boys  off 
into  the  "Dead  March  in  Saul,"  and  to  the  strains  of 

"Unveil  thy  bosom,  faithful  tomb," 

the  body  was  borne  to  its  burial. 

The  collection  of  the  pictures  which  make  up  the  two  groups 
is  owing  to  the  thoughtfulness  and  care  of  J.  J.  Seelye  of  Rose, 
a  member  of  Company  H.  It  required  many  letters  to  get  these 
reminders  together  after  so  many  days.  As  the  men  themselves 
so  often  marched  before  the  regiment,  their  faces  will  in  almost 
all  cases  be  readily  recognized.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  there 
are  any  vacancies  in  the  list,  but  some  veterans,  though  presum 
ably  living,  have  disappeared  beyond  the  reach  of  ordinary 
means  of  discovery. 

Mr.  Seelye,  in  his  communication,  kindly  named  the  instru 
ment  that  each  man  played,  but  at  this  late  day  it  will  matter 
very  little  whether  it  was  a  flat  or  a  sharp,  whether  he  beat 
or  blew.  Through  our  memories,  the  past  comes  back  in  one 
harmonious  whole,  in  which  faces  and  sounds  are  blended  be 
yond  possibility  of  separation. 

They  by  their  music  inspired  those  that  followed,  for  Aesop 
tells  us  that  the  trumpeter  was  killed  when    made  a  prisoner, 
though  he  was  unarmed,  because  he  inspired  others  to  fight, 
and  they  made  many  a  day  seem  shorter  when  there  was  a  dis 
position  to  homesickness.     Their  names  are  as  follows : — 
Benjamin  L,  Avery,  Co.  M,  now  of  Genoa,  N.  Y.,  had  a  facile 
hand  in  wartimes,  and  at  least  one  of  our  pictures  is  owing 
to  his  skill. 

Eomain  C.  Earless,  Co.  H,  Rose,  N.  Y.,  was  one  of  the  "Band 
Boys"  of  ante-wartimes,  and  in  those  days  was  known  as 
"Doc."  Since  the  war  he  has  been  something  of  a  lawyer, 
and  at  present  is  a  justice  of  the  peace,  at  the  same  time 
doing  considerable  as  a  pension  agent.  Perhaps  no  one  in 
the  county  has  been  more  successful  than  "Doc"  in  this 
respect. 

George  W.  Bates,  Co.  M,  resides  now  in  Lodge  Pole,  Neb.,  one 
of  New  York's  contributions  to  the  West  when  the  war  was 
over. 

Charles  F.  Crowfoot,  Co.  E,  Venice  Centre,  N.  Y. 
Charles  Foster. 
Henry  Foster. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  293 

William  Foster. 

Three  brothers,  Co.  M.    Their  addresses  not  known. 

Barton  Gage,  Co.  A. 

Alfred  B.  Harmon,  Co.  H,  Palmyra,  N.  Y.  Involuntarily  the 
picture  of  Mrs.  Harmon  appears  in  our  illustration,  but  to 
get  the  face  of  the  player,  that  of  Mrs.  H.  was  taken  also. 
Mr.  Harmon  was  one  of  the  original  players  of  Rose,  as  was 
his  brother,  whose  name  follows. 

William  J.  Harmon,  Co.  H,  deceased.  Was  from  Rose,  but  for 
several  years  before  his  death  lived  in  Rochester. 

William  Felton  Hickok,  Co.  H,  Rose;  another  of  the  original 
players;  everyone  calls  him  "Felt";  since  the  war  has  fol 
lowed  the  pursuit  of  farming  and  house  carpentering. 

Pitts,  O.  Hudson,  Co.  F,  Bay  City,  Mich.  Not  only  played  in  the 
band,  but  has  been  a  musician  ever  since.  He  leads  an  or 
chestra,  teaches  violin  music,  writes  poetry  and  music, 
gives  concerts,  living  by  as  well  as  for  music. 

George  Klumpp,  Co.  D,  died  in  Weedsport  Feb.  23,  1899. 

Alvah  Low  was  a  Co.  I  man  from  Sennett  and  played  the  clari 
net. 

David  Marshall,  Co.  A,  enlisted  from  Genoa. 

Edward  F.  Moulton,  Co.  M,  Batavia,  N.  Y. 

Edson  H.  Pond,  Co.  M,  Greenville,  Mich. 

Jacob  Sager,  Co.  H.  No  one  can  remember  when  he  was  not  a 
player  in  a  band;  has  been  since  the  war  a  cebinet-maker 
in  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

J.  Judson  Seelye,  Co.  H,  Rose,  N.  Y.  His  best  friends  know  him 
as  "Jud.";  born  and  reared  in  Rose  he  was  struck  with  a 
wild-western  fever  some  years  after  the  strife,  and  he  spent 
several  years  trying  to  hold  down  a  claim  or  two  in  South 
Dakota,  but  latterly  he  has  concluded  that  New  York  is 
good  enough  for  him. 

Pardon  T.  Shorkley,  Co.  E,  Merrifield,  N.  Y. 

Mortimer  Smith,  Co.  A,  was  discharged  to  take  commission  in 
a  colored  regiment.  When  he  left,  his  comrades  in  the  com 
pany  gave  him  a  sword. 

Frederick  Smocker,  Co.  A,  enlisted  from  Wolcott. 

Ira  Soule,  Co.  H,  Rose,  N.  Y.  Another  of  the  old  band  boys; 
descended  from  George  Soule,  one  of  the  Mayflower  pas 
sengers;  he  is  one  of  the  few  survivors  of  the  regiment  who 
can  say,  "I  had  a  son  with  me  in  the  service."  He  has  long 
followed  the  trade  of  a  shoemaker. 


294  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Ira  T.  Soule,  Co.  H,  Rose,  N.  Y.  Ira  is  the  son  of  the  above, 
and  he  is  a  worthy  one.  His  business  is  that  of  a  house- 
painter.  It  should  be  said  that  he  beat  the  snare  drum  in 
the  ante-bellum  days  of  the  Rose  band. 

Fred  A.  Tallman,  Co.  E,  Syracuse,  N.  Y.,  was  a  drummer  in  his 
company,  and  no  one  can  give  the  drum  a  better  beating 
than  he  when  the  old  boys  come  together  for  a  reunion. 

John  Van  Liew,  Co.  E,  Mapleton,  N.  Y. 

Eugene  B.  Wing,  Co.  M,  Attica,  N.  Y. 

Stephen  P.  Wing,  Co.  M,  Flint,  Mich.    Cousins. 

TWO  HARVESTS. 

BY  N.  A.  M.  ROE. 

In  the  early  morning,  at  Monocacy,  laborers  worked  rapidly  to  gather  from  the  field, 
just  to  the  west  of  the  Washington  pike,  the  crop  of  wheat,  which  in  shock  was  ready 
for  garnering.  Late  in  the  afternoon  lifeless  bodies  plentifully  bestrewed  the  same 
field;  the  later  reaper  was  Death.  ( Vide  page  126.) 

The  reapers  are  binding  the  yellow  grain, 
The  mocking-bird  drops  with  an  eddying  strain, 
That  pierces  my  heart  with  ecstatic  pain, 
While  I  watch  for  his  jubilant  rising  again, 

Over  the  hill. 

The  sunlight  shakes  on  the  ripling  flow, 
Of  blue  Monocacy  gliding  slow; 
Its  murmuring  waters  caressing  low 
The  fleeting  shadows  that  come  and  go, 

At  zephyrs  will. 

Such  was  the  harvest  the  noontide  brought, 
Sunny  the  field  where  the  reapers  wrought, 
Pleasant  the  sound  that  the  west  wind  caught, 
And  the  beautiful  laughing  day  was  fraught 

With  joyous  thrill. 
There's  a  line  thin  and  blue, 
There  are  hearts  staunch  and  true, 
There  are  shots  quick  and  loud, 
Then  a  pall  of  battle  cloud. 
Shot  and  shell 
Make  a  seething  hell 

Of  that  field. 
Do  comrades  lag? 
That  tattered  flag 

With  Company  A 
Goes  proudly  on, 
While  here  and  yon, 

Fate  has  sealed 
Some  hearts  so  bold 
In  silence  cold 

Along  the  way. 


REGIMENTAL   BAND. 

R.  C.  Earless.  P.  O.  Hudson.  John  Van  Lie\v. 

B.  L.  Avery.  E.  F.  Moulton.  C.  F.  Crowfoot. 

Geo.  Klumpp.  Geo.  W.  Bates.  Ira  Soule.  Ira  T.  Scule. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  295 

There  the  blue  and  gray  are  meeting, 
God  in  Heaven!  the  blue  retreating! 
Fighting,  fleeing,  never  seeing 
Aught  of  sunny  skies  o'ermeeting. 
Like  a  twisted,  broken  ribbon 

Was  that  brave  and  gallant  line, 
While  the  frightened  sobbing  river's 

Tide  is  red  like  crimson  wine. 
Where  the  mockbird's  joyous  music, 

Now  the  wailing  cry  of  pain, 
And  the  shocked  and  shivering  ether — 

Will  it  ne'er  be  still  again? 
And  what  was  the  harvest  the  twilight  gray 
In  pitiful  shadows  at  close  of  the  day, 
Enfolded  and  covered  in  silence  away? 
Oh,  sun  of  the  morrow,  I  pray  thee  delay 

Nor  haste  thee 

To  look  on  the  harvest  the  angel  of  woe 
Hath  reaped  on  this  desolate  field  below, 
'Twas  a  harvest  of  heroes,  true  soldiers  I  trow, 
Who  fell  where  the  waves  of  Monocacy  flow 
To  the  sea. 

THE    FORTS    ABOUT    WASHINGTON. 

The  consideration  of  the  defenses  of  Washington  demands  a 
volume  by  itself,  consequently  any  word  here  is  entirely  inade 
quate  to  the  proper  discussion  of  the  subject.  The  best  that 
can  be  done  is  to  name  some  of  the  forts  with  which  the  regi 
ment  was  specially  connected,  with  the  barest  outline  of  the 
scheme  of  defending  the  city. 

It  was  early  recognized  by  the  government  that  the  capture 
of  the  Capital  would  be  a  serious  blow  to  the  Union  cause, 
hence  the  extent  of  earthen  walls  that  gradually  grew  around 
its  borders.  So  near  was  it  to  the  first  scenes  of  hostility  that 
the  sound  of  conflict  fell  upon  the  ears  of  Washington  dwellers, 
and  the  Stars  and  Bars  were  visible  above  the  roof  of  the  Mar 
shall  House  in  Alexandria. 

The  very  first  advance  into  Virginia  in  May,  1861,  was  accom 
panied  by  the  making  of  fortifications.  The  end  of  the  Long 
Bridge  was  made  safe  and  the  approaches  to  the  Aqueduct 
Bridge  were  defended  by  Fort  Corcoran,  which  was  one  of  the 
first  if  not  the  very  first  to  be  completed.  It  was  here  that 
Henry  Watterson  of  the  Louisville  Journal  witnessed  the  rais 
ing  of  the  flag,  and  of  the  event  wrote  a  glowing  description 


296 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


FORTS  ABOUT  WASHINGTON. 

to  a  Philadelphia  paper,  an  article  for  which  he  subsequently 
said  he  had  to  apologize  throughout  the  entire  war,  for  he  went 
home  soon  after  and  threw  himself  into  the  Confederate  cause. 
It  is  of  interest  to  all  6th  Corps  men  that  General  H.  G. 
Wright  had  to  do  with  the  laying  out  of  some  of  the  earliest 
of  the  forts,  especially  on  the  Virginia  side  of  the  Potomac. 
A  letter  addressed  to  the  general  in  1898,  drew  from  him  the 
following  reply: 


MISCELLANEOUS.  297 

My  connection  with  the  actual  construction  of  the  defenses 
of  Washington  was  confined,  mainly,  to  the  laying  out  and 
building  of  Fort  Ellsworth,  in  which  I  was  assisted  during  a 
portion  of  the  time  by  Lieutenant  George  W.  Snyder,  Corps  of 
Engineers,  a  very  bright  and  intelligent  officer,  who  died  in 
November,  1861,  and  had  he  lived  I  am  sure  he  would  have 
attained  high  rank  in  the  Civil  War.  I  also  assisted  Captain 
B.  S.  Alexander  in  the  selection  of  the  site  and  the  laying  out 
of  Fort  Kunyan,  but  had  no  connection  in  the  actual  construc 
tion,  which  was  carried  out  under  Alexander's  supervision. 
My  next  and  last  connection  with  the  "defenses"  was  at  Fort 
Stevens  when  the  Capital  was  raided  by  Early,  being  in  com 
mand  of  the  forces  engaged  in  the  action  in  advance  of  that 
portion  of  the  line  on  the  12th  of  August,  1864. 

It  is  difficult  to  find  many  forts  of  which  it  can  be  said  they 
were  built  by  this  or  that  regiment,  for  seemingly  almost  every 
organization  that  passed  through  the  District  lifted  a  shovel 
a  longer  or  shorted  period  upon  these  works.  Some  officers 
decried  the  whole  system,  saying  it  would  never  be  of  the  slight 
est  use,  but  the  work  progressed  till  the  Capital  was  surrounded 
by  a  series  of  forts  and  batteries,  large  and  small,  sixty-eight 
in  number.  They  had  an  aggregate  perimeter  of  thirteen  miles ; 
there  were  twenty  miles  of  rifle-trenches  and  three  block 
houses;  ninety -three  unarmed  batteries  for  field  guns  having 
401  emplacements;  the  forts  themselves  had  1120  emplacements 
with  807  guns  and  93  mortars  actually  in  position.  There  were 
thirty-two  miles  of  military  road  besides  the  existing  roads  and 
avenues  of  the  District  by  which  communication  could  be  had 
from  point  to  point;  the  entire  circuit  of  the  forts  was  thirty- 
seven  miles. 

The  first  works,  those  of  1861,  were  almost  entirely  rebuilt 
in  a  more  substantial  manner.  They  became  a  place  of  security 
to  the  demoralized  Potomac  Army  in  1862,  and  their  utility  in 
1864  has  already  been  shown. 

The  work  of  the  Ninth  in  building  was  entirely  on  the  Mary 
land  side  of  the  river  and,  with  the  exception  of  Fort  Foote,  in 
a  section  to  the  northwest  of  the  city,  though  at  first  and  later 
some  shoveling  was  done  near  the  Bladensburg  road.  Some  of 
the  projected  forts  were  already  named  before  we  began  our 
labors,  and  some  were  changed  ere  we  finished,  if,  indeed,  we 
really  got  through  before  our  muster-out,  since  some  of  the 
hold-overs  in  1865  remember  very  warm  days  devoted  to  re- 
sodding  and  otherwise  beautifying  the  earthworks. 


298  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

As  a  general  thing,  the  forts,  early  in  the  building  days,  took 
some  appellation  suggestive  of  the  makers.  Thus  the  Rhode 
Island  boys  who  started  the  works,  later  called  Fort  Slocum, 
at  first  referred  to  them  as  Fort  Rhode  Island,  but  when  Bull 
Run  took  from  them  their  brave  colonel,  John  S.  Slocum  of  the 
2d  Rhode  Island,  the  fort  took  his  name.  Thus  Fort  Massa 
chusetts  became  Fort  Stevens  and  Fort  Pennsylvania  was 
changed  to  Fort  Reno.  Thereafter  forts  received  the  names  of 
distinguished  Union  officers  who  had  lost  their  lives. 

When  the  138th  sat  down  before  Fort  Kearney  (see  page  36) 
they  found  a  fort  begun  and  named.  Of  the  utility  of  this  fort, 
General  Barnard  says,  "It  is  a  connecting  link  between  Forts 
Pennsylvania  (Reno)  and  DeRussey.  It  sees  well  the  upper 
valley  of  the  Broad  Branch  and  crosses  its  fires  with  those  of 
the  above-named  forts  and  intermediate  batteries  upon  the  dan 
gerous  heights  in  front." 

Fort  Gaines  was  another  work  to  whose  existence  the  regi 
ment  contributed.  It  was  in  the  second  line,  and  Barnard  says : 
"The  enemy  could  not  establish  himself  on  the  ridge  occupied 
by  Mansfield,  since  the  rifled  guns  of  Gaines  could  explode  the 
magazines  of  Mansfield." 

Fort  Mansfield,  named  for  the  gallant  general  (see  page  47) 
killed  at  Antietam,  was  almost  exclusively  the  work  of  our 
hands.  "The  works  are  well  located  as  connecting  links  be 
tween  Forts  Sumner  and  Reno;  are  well  built  and  deemed 
adequate  for  their  purposes." 

Fort  Simmons,  very  near  Mansfield,  was  peculiarly  a  work  of 
our  making,  and  preserved  in  its  appellation  the  memory  of 
Colonel  Seneca  G.  Simmons  of  the  34th  Pennsylvania  Infantry, 
killed  at  the  Battle  of  Glendale  June  30th,  1862.  It  was  one 
of  the  later  works,  and  with  Mansfield  constituted  a  part  of  the 
line  connecting  Sumner  and  Reno.  Though  above  the  valley, 
they  were  a  hundred  feet  lower  than  Fort  Gaines. 

Fort  Bayard  came,  also,  within  the  claims  of  the  Ninth,  and 
was  the  outgrowth  of  an  almost  circular  fortification,  known 
for  some  time  as  Battery  Ellipse,  but  eventually  was  honored 
with  the  name  of  Brigadier  General  George  D.  Bayard,  a  native 
of  Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y.;  West  Point,  1856;  killed  at  Fredericks- 
burg,  December  13,  1862.  This  fort  was  rendered  necessary  by 
the  northern  location  of  Sumner  and  the  need  of  connection 
with  Reno. 


FORT   STEVENS   IN 


LOOKING  NORTH,  THROUGH  EMBRASURE. 
INTERIOR.  LOOKING  WEST. 


LOOKING  WEST,  PARAPET  AT  RIGHT. 
LOOKING  NORTH,  PARAPET  AT  RIGHT. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  299 

Our  regiment  was  not  ignorant  of  the  making  of  Fort  Reno, 
which  at  first  was  called  Fort  Pennsylvania,  on  account  of  the 
troops  who  early  worked  upon  it.  After  the  death  of  General 
Jesse  L.  Reno  at  South  Mountain,  his  name  was  fittingly  pre 
served  here.  Situated  just  north  of  Tennallytown,  it  occupied 
one  of  the  most  commanding  sites  about  Washington,  and  its 
100-pound  Parrott  ranged  to  hillsi  beyond  the  scope  of  Sunnier 
and  DeRussey. 

Fort  Stevens  grew  from  Fort  Massachusetts,  which  was  it 
self  an  outgrowth  from  the  camps  of  the  10th  and  7th  Massa 
chusetts,  the  2d  Rhode  Island  and  the  36th  New  York,  which 
were  at  Brightwood  in  1861.  These  regiments  labored  diligent 
ly  here,  and  the  name  of  the  Bay  State  was  at  first  applied  to 
the  results  of  their  work.  After  it  had  grown  to  be  one  of  the 
most  important  of  all  the  works  about  the  Capital,  it  received 
the  name  of  General  Isaac  I.  Stevens,  colonel  of  the  79th  New 
York  Highlanders,  and  afterwards  major  general  of  volunteers, 
who  was  killed  at  Chantilly  September  1st,  1862,  having  in 
his  hands  the  colors  of  his  own  Highlanders. 

No  fort  in  the  entire  range  has  so  great  a  reputation  as  this, 
for  in  front  of  it  the  main  part  of  the  fighting  was  done,  July 
12,  1864,  though  firing  extended  from  Slocum  to  Simmons. 
Upon  its  ramparts  stood  the  president  during  a  part  of  that 
eventful  day,  and  for  a  while  the  city  back  of  it  held  its  breath, 
wondering  what  the  outcome  would  be.  Here  was  proven  the 
utility  of  the  miles  of  earthworks  which  enclosed  the  Capital. 

Naturally,  the  question  arises,  "What  is  there  left  to  show 
of  the  fort  to-day?"  Very  little.  The  unknowing  traveler 
might  pass  through  the  fort  and  think  only  that  the  surface 
was  a  trifle  irregular,  but  should  he  seek  closely  he  will  find 
traces,  as  appears  in  the  accompanying  plate.  Brightwood 
has  become  a  suburb  of  Washington,  and  alleged  improvements 
will  eventually  wipe  out  all  traces,  as  they  have  already  of  a 
part  of  the  eastern  portion. 

The  fort  of  all  others  where  there  is  no  dispute  as  to  what 
should  be  ascribed  to  our  regiment  is  Fort  Foote  (see  page  60). 
It  is  one  of  the  few  deemed  worthy  of  preservation  on  account 
of  its  location.  General  Barnard  says:  "This  fort  was  con 
structed  for  the  purpose  of  defending,  along  with  Battery 
Rodgers,  the  water-approach  of  the  city.  ...  It  was  de 
signed  as  a  water  battery  of  eight  22-pound  Parrott  rifles  and 


300  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

two  15-inch  guns.    The  river  front  was  made  515J  feet  in  length, 

with  a  return  (at  an  angle  of  120  degrees)  of  75  feet 

The  rear  of  the  fort,  parallel  to  the  long  water-front,  was  bas- 
tioned  and  armed  with  field  and  siege  guns  for  land  defense. 
The  parapets  on  those  faces  exposed  to  naval  attack  were  made 
from  twenty  to  twenty-five  feet  in  thickness,  and  of  a  sufficient 
height  to  give  a  cover  of  at  least  eight  feet.  The  crest  level  was 
from  103  to  106  feet  above  high  water.  .  .  .  All  the  earth 
work  was  sodded  even  to  the  scarps  and  counterscarps." 

The  fort  was  completed  in  the  fall  of  1863,  and  is  yet  main 
tained  (1871)  as  an  armed  and  garrisoned  post.  It  is  in  excel 
lent  condition,  and  with  proper  care  will  remain  so  for  years  to 
come. 

The  general  describes  with  some  minuteness  the  slopes, 
bomb-proofs,  wooden  buildings  and  the  entire  make-up  of  the 
fort.  The  cedar  and  chestnut  used  in  the  works  were  at  the 
time  of  his  writing,  1871,  in  an  excellent  state  of  preservation. 

Though  not  assisting  in  the  building  of  all  these  forts,  the 
order-books  of  the  regiment  would  show  that  during  our  stay 
in  the  defenses,  the  9th  Regiment,  or  some  part  of  it,  did  for  a 
longer  or  shorter  period  occupy  or  assist  in  the  construction 
of  nearly  every  fort  and  battery  in  the  entire  cordon.  Seeming 
ly  our  experience  in  this  direction  exceeded  that  of  the  majority 
of  our  associate  regiments. 

A   MONOCACY   EPISODE. 

On  page  126  reference  is  made  to  the  evident  distress  of  two 
young  women,  the  morning  of  the  Battle  of  Monocacy.  Before 
the  troops  had  moved  into  position,  they  were  seen  repeatedly 
near  the  headquarters  of  General  Wallace.  Since  the  war,  the 
cause  of  their  anxiety  has  appeared,  and  the  following  letter 
from  one  of  the  parties  interested,  though  not  seen  by  us  then, 
is  given  to  the  public  for  the  first  time.  The  writer,  a  son  of 
Colonel  C.  K.  Thomas,  on  whose  farm  the  most  of  the  fighting 
of  the  9th  was  done,  is  now  a  resident  of  Berryville,  Va.,  in  the 
very  section  so  familiar  to  the  members  of  the  Ninth,  where  he 
holds  several  hundred  acres  of  that  most  fertile  land,  and  for 
several  years  he  has  represented  the  counties  of  Clarke  and 
Warren  in  the  Virginia  Legislature.  At  the  same  time  he  holds, 
from  Governor  J.  Hoge  Tyler,  the  position  of  colonel  of  cavalry 
on  the  latter's  staff.  Colonel  S.  S.  Thomas  tells  his  own  story 
in  the  following  interesting  manner: 


MONOCACY    "HEROES/' 
J.    II.    ANDERSON,          S.    S.    THOMAS.        H.    M.    GATCHELL. 


MONOCACY    STONE   BRIDGE,   BALTIMORE    PIKE 


MISCELLANEOUS.  301 

On  the  4th  day  of  July,  1864,  Julius  H.  Anderson,  Hugh  M. 
Gatchell  and  myself  left  Baltimore  city  to  make  a  visit  to  my 
father's  home,  "Araby" — the  scene  of  the  Battle  of  Monocacy. 
Anticipating  a  most  gorgeous  time  for  that  day,  which  was 
virtually  the  day  of  this  young  nation's  birth,  we  spent  all  the 
energies  of  our  youthful  natures  in  bringing  about  that  result. 
Added  to  our  own  efforts,  the  stronger  stimulus  was  the  fact 
that  two  of  the  trio  had  sweethearts  at  "Araby"  to  assist 
them  in  their  pleasures.  My.  sister,,  Alice,  was  engaged  and 
afterwards  married  Mr.  Anderson,  and  Miss  Mary  A.  Tyler  (her 
guest)  was  engaged  and  afterwards  married  Mr.  Gatchell.  I 
took  my  pleasure  amidst  the  home  circle,  except  when  these 
young  couples  were  not  engrossed  with  one  another. 

Thus  this  happy  party  continued  to  embrace  and  enjoy  all 
the  accompanying  pleasures  incident  to  youth,  for  the  eldest 
of  the  party  was  only  twenty  years  old.  But  presto!  etc.  Whilst 
sitting  on  the  piazza  at  "Araby,"  on  the  morning  of  the  5th, 
behold,  a  squad  of  United  States  soldiers  is  seen  marching  up 
the  lawn,  and  after  halting  in  front  of  us,  one  of  them  stepped 
forward  and  announced  the  fact  that  he  had  an  order  for  the 
arrest  of  three  young  men  staying  there,  at  the  same  time  call 
ing  our  names. 

My  father  at  once  demanded  to  know  at  whose  instance  the 
arrest  was  made.  "By  the  order  of  General  Lew  Wallace." 
"And  what  ground  does  General  Wallace  assign  for  this 
arrest?"  continued  my  father.  The  reply  came  that  General 
Wallace  knew  his  own  business.  Which  to  my  mind  has  proved 
a  fallacy,  as  his  subsequent  military  career  showed. 

Here  follows  the  most  remarkable  and  unprecedented  step 
ever  taken  by  any  commander  in  civil  warfare.  We  were 
marched  under  guard  to  the  place  of  encampment  of  the  llth 
Maryland,  100  days'  regiment,  commanded  by  Colonel  William 
T.  Landstreet,  given  muskets,  placed  in  the  ranks,  drilled  with 
the  regiment,  and  marched  with  it  on  the  morning  of  the  8th 
(I  think)  to  the  west  side  of  Frederick  and  drawn  up  in  line  of 
battle;  but  one  officer  in  command,  finding  that  we  made  a 
fine  target  for  a  Confederate  battery  to  practice  upon,  at  once 
ordered  our  retreat  to  the  bridge  spanning  the  Monocacy  on  the 
Baltimore  pike,  thence  by  daybreak,  next  morning  back  along 
the  Monocacy  to  the  old  camping-ground  at  Frederick  Junction. 
The  next  morning,  the  9th,  our  muskets  were  taken  from  us 
(now  think  of  this),  and  we  were  detained  with  the  regiment 
and  carried  to  an  eminence  adjacent  to  the  railroad-bridge,  and 
there  ordered  to  remain,  the  firing  having  commenced,  a  Con 
federate  battery  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  firing  at  us.  Re 
member  we  were  clad  in  civilian  dress,  and  a  kind,  chivalrous 
and  sympathetic  officer,  whose  memory  I  shall  always  cherish, 
turned  to  us  and  remarked,  "Young  men,  General  Wallace  is 
now  yonder  (pointing  afar  off)  on  the  left  flank.  I  appreciate 


302  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

his  unsoldierly  conduct  towards  you,  and  if  the  rebels  drive 
us  from  this  position  and  you  are  caught  fighting  in  citizen's 
dress,  as  they  will  have  every  right,  I  suppose  they  will  kill  you 
on  sight.  Now,  take  my  advice  and  get  away  as  fast  as  you 
can."  This  man  was  one  of  God's  noblemen  and  seeing  the 
injustice  of  the  position  in  which  we  were  placed,  could  not  re 
strain  the  nobility  of  his  character. 

We  at  once  acted  on  his  suggestion  and  left  without  any 
molestation,  and  we  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  only  mean 
fellow  in  that  whole  army  was  General  Lew  Wallace. 

From  there  we  went  to  the  residence  of  Mr.  J.  H.  Gambrill. 
After  sitting  there  for  some  time,  occupying  seats  on  the  east 
porch  with  General  Ricketts,  an  officer,  General  Adam  E.  King, 
rode  up  to  make  a  report  to  him  (Ricketts).  After  delivering  the 
same  and  receiving  instructions,  he  started  back,  but  in  almost 
less  time  than  it  takes  to  relate  it,  I  saw  him  brought  back  on 
a  stretcher,  supposed  to  be  mortally  wounded.  (I  believe  he  is 
now  living  in  Baltimore.) 

By  that  time  the  shells  were  flying  rapidly,  plowing  up  the 
earth  all  around  us,  so  that  we,  including  Mr.  Gambrill,  deter 
mined  to  take  shelter  in  the  mill,  and  there  remained  till  the 
battle  was  over,  which  was  about  4  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

For  the  above  reasons,  I  claim  that  we  were  the  only  heroes 
of  the  Battle  of  Monocacy,  having  been  exposed  to  the  same 
dangers  as  soldiers  against  our  own  will,  without  having  the 
protection  given  to  a  uniform.  This  was  the  last  of  it,  General 
Wallace  never  attempting  to  assign  any  reason  whatever  for 
his  unwarrantable  course,  and  the  above  relation  of  facts  does 
not  appear,  I  know,  in  any  history  of  the  war. 

The  distress  of  the  young  women  on  the  morning  of  the  9th 
is  now  perfectly  clear, — they  were  trying  to  secure  the  release 
of  the  brother  and  lovers,  but  without  avail.  It  is  easy  to  im 
agine  what  must  have  been  the  feelings  of  the  parents  and 
those  girls  as  they  spent  the  long  hours  of  this  day  in  the 
cellar  of  the  Thomas  house.  Several  years  later,  Colonel  0.  K. 
Thomas  told  the  writer  that  on  their  return  to  Baltimore  the 
young  men  had  their  pictures  taken  in  the  dress  worn  on  the  day 
of  the  battle,  and  that  one  of  the  involuntary  soldiers  wrote 
beneath  the  figures  these  words,  "The  only  soldiers  at  Monocacy 
who  were  not  killed  or  captured  or  did  not  run  away."  It  does 
seem  as  though  the  young  man  had  some  warrant  for  his  in 
scription. 

A  few  words  here  concerning  the  elder  Thomas  are  in  place, 
He  was  born  in  Frederick  county,  Md.,  in  1817,  and  died  in 
June,  1899,  at  "Araby,"  his  residence  near  the  Monocacy  river, 


MISCELLANEOUS.  303 

and  is  buried  in  Mt.  Olivet  cemetery.  He  was  closely  related 
to  the  first  Governor  Thomas,  and  was  a  distant  relative  of  the 
second,  and  through  his  mother  was  descended  from  Thomas 
Notely,  who  was  proprietary  governor  in  1678.  Colonel  Thomas 
was  a  man  whom  to  meet  was  to  inspire  respect.  Though  his 
opinions  might  differ  from  some  of  yours,  you  could  not  help 
liking  him.  If  any  Union  officers  and  men  of  the  hundreds  who 
met  him  during  the  troublous  days  of  1862  and  '65  entertain 
any  other  than  the  kindest  memories  of  him,  they  have  not  ex 
pressed  them  in  the  hearing  of  the  writer.  Were  those  to  be 
named  who  endorse  these  sentiments,  the  list  would  be  too  long, 
but  one  warm  friend  was  Major  Vandenburgh  of  the  14th  New 
Jersey  of  our  1st  Brigade,  who  died  so  bravely  at  Winchester. 

THE   SIXTH  CORPS. 

Colonel  William  F.  Fox  in  his  book  of  regimental  losses  says : 
The  history  of  the  6th  Corps,  more  than  any  other,  is  replete 
with  fascinating  interest.  Its  record  is  invested  with  more  of 
the  romance  and  brilliancy  of  war.  There  was  the  successful 
assault  of  Marye's  Heights;  the  brilliant  dash  into  the  rifle-pits 
at  Rappahannock  Station;  the  deadly  hand-to-hand  fighting  in 
the  gloomy  thickets  of  Spottsylvania;  the  breathless  interest 
which  attaches  to  that  lone  fight  at  Fort  Stevens,  where,  under 
the  eye  of  the  president,  they  saved  the  national  Capital  from 
the  hands  of  the  invader;  the  victories  in  the  valley,  with  the 
dramatic  incident  at  Cedar  Creek;  and  the  crowning  success  at 
the  storming  of  Petersburg.  Over  all  these  scenes  the  Greek 
cross  waved  proudly  on  the  banners  of  the  corps,  while  its 
veteran  legions  wrought  deeds  which  linked  that  badge  with  an 
unfading  glory  and  renown. 

The  6th  Corps  had  its  origin  May  18,  1862,  when  Franklin's 
division  was  united  with  that  of  General  W.  F.  Smith,  General 
William  B.  Franklin  becoming  the  first  commander.  It  partic 
ipated  in  all  the  strife  in  which  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
engaged  from  the  Peninsular  Campaign,  through  Gettysburg 
to  the  first  assault  on  Petersburg.  Its  successive  commanders 
were  General  W.  F.  Smith,  John  Sedgwick  and  H.  G.  Wright. 
Its  course  after  our  own  regiment  joined  has  been  pretty  well 
followed  in  this  volume. 

In  laying  stress  upon  the  services  of  the  6th  Corps,  no  at 
tempt  is  made  to  disparage  other  and  similar  organizations. 
Every  one  must  grant  that  all  did  their  duty;  to  the  6th  Corps 
came  certain  ordeals,  and  the  corps  acquitted  itself  magnifi 
cently.  Very  likely  other  bodies  would  have  done  the  same, 


304  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

but  under  Sedgwick  and  Wright  there  had  grown  up  a  confi 
dence  in  itself  that  meant  much  to  the  cause  for  which  it  strove. 
Confidence  begat  confidence,  and  leaders  and  men  respected 
each  other,  if,  indeed,  the  word  "respect"  is  strong  enough. 
For  many  a  day  after  the  dread  event  of  Spottsylvania,  there 
were  few  boys  of  the  6th  who  did  not  refer  to  "Uncle  John" 
with  a  quaver  in  their  voices. 

The  following  stanzas  in  The  Sixth  Corps,  our  Danville  daily 
of  April-May,  1865,  are  indicative  of  the  feeling  that  every  man 
had  for  his  fallen  hero.  The  lines  were  printed  in  the  first 
number,  that  of  April  27: 

SEDGWICK. 

We  breathe  his  name— the  cross  gleams  bright 

On  every  manly  breast; 
He  wore  it,  and  it  caught  the  light 

Of  Heaven's  own  bequest. 

Then,  brothers,  let  us  bow  the  head, 

And  feel  his  presence  near; 
The  brave  die  not — he  is  not  dead, 

No,  Sedgwick's  soul  is  here. 

God  bless  him,  when  amidst  the  fray, 

We  sweep  the  death- struck  plain, 
We  hear  his  voice — the  foe  give  way, 

And  Sedgwick  leads  again. 

He  left  us  when  through  Wilderness, 

War  shed  its  lurid  flame; 
When  ranks  were  growing  less  and  less, 

He  left  us  but  in  name. 

His  sword  was  sheathed — but  ever  near, 

His  dear  old  flag  he  moves; 
Beneath  the  cross  he  whispers  cheer, 

The  cross  that  Sedgwick  loves. 

Then  breathe  his  name— the  cross  gleams  bright 

On  every  manly  breast; 
He  wore  it,  and  it  caught  the  light 

Of  Heaven's  own  pure  bequest. 

There  had  not  been  the  hesitation  of  a  moment  in  the  acces 
sion  of  Wright,  and  though  there  was  the  taking  on  of  a  new 
love,  there  was  no  forgetting  of  the  old.  The  new  general  was 
no  novice  in  the  art  of  war ;  like  his  predecessor,  he  was  a  native 
of  the  state  of  Connecticut;  born  in  Clinton  March  6th,  1820. 
He  was  graduated  from  West  Point,  No.  2  in  the  class  of  1841, 


MISCELLANEOUS.  305 

and  became  a  member  of  the  Engineer  Corps.  He  taught  at 
the  academy,  and  was  a  captain  when  the  war  broke  out.  He 
served  in  the  Bull  Run  campaign ;  helped  capture  Hilton  Head, 
S.  0.;  was  in  Florida  in  1862;  later  was  in  Ohio  and  Kentucky, 
and  having  become  a  major  general  of  volunteers,  he  com 
manded  the  1st  Division  of  the  6th  Corps  at  the  beginning  of  the 
Campaign  of  1864.  We  need  not  follow  him  again  through  the 
struggle  of  the  Battle  Summer,  but  how  his  accession  to  the 
head  of  the  corps  was  regarded,  the  following  lines  clearly  in 
dicate  : 

"Our  truest,  bravest  heart  is  gone,  and  we  remember  well 

The  bitter  anguish  of  the  day  when  noble  Sedgwick  fell; 

But  there  is  still  another  left  to  lead  us  to  the  fight, 

And  with  a  hearty  three  times  three  we'll  cheer  our  gallant  Wright." 

It  had  been  a  cherished  hope  of  the  writer  of  this  volume 
that  he  might  present  a  copy  to  the  man  whom  he  and  thou 
sands  of  others  had  so  confidently  followed,  but  at  the  eleventh 
hour  we  know  that  he  passed  within  the  vail.  Writing  to  him 
in  1896,  the  following  words  were  received  in  reply: 

I  have  no  doubt  you  will  prepare  an  interesting  history  of  the 
9th  New  York  Heavy,  as  it  passed  most  honorably  through 
eventful  times,  and  1  should  with  pleasure  aid  you  in  your  la 
bors  with  matter  therefor  if  I  could.  Unfortunately,  however, 
I  have  nothing  to  which  I  can  refer  touching  the  service  of  any 
regiment,  and  I  only  remember  that  the  9th  held  high  place 
in  the  estimation  of  the  commanders  under  whom  it  served, 
including  myself. 

There  are  those  who  recall  the  enthusiastic  reception  ac 
corded  the  veteran  commander  on  that  day  in  September,  1892, 
during  the  G.  A.  R.  encampment  in  Washington.  The  scene  is 
indelibly  impressed  upon  many  minds  when  the  boys  rose  to 
greet  the  leader  of  former  times.  What  a  flood  of  years  rolled 
away  as  they  stood  in  his  presence  and  in  fancy  saw  him  in  his 
manly  strength  at  the  head  of  the  corps,  close  to  the  Greek 
cross,  with  his  followers,  the  first  favorites  of  Sheridan. 

After  the  war  he  lived  a  quiet  life,  for  the  most  part  in  Wash 
ington,  where  he  died  July  2,  1899.  His  body  was  taken  to 
Connecticut  for  burial.  His  full  name  was  Horatio  Gouverneur, 
not  Horatio  Gates,  as  has  been  so  frequently  yet  incorrectly 
stated. 

Our  first  division  commander,  General  James  B.  Ricketts, 
20 


306  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

was  a  worthy  associate  of  the  gallant  Wright,  born  in  New 
York  city  June  21,  1817;  West  Point,  1839;  saw  service  along 
the  Canada  border  and  through  the  Mexican  War;  helped  over 
come  the  Indians  in  Florida,  and  early  gained  repute  in  the 
War  of  the  Rebellion,  for  Ricketts's  Battery  won  renown  at 
Bull  Run,  where  he  was  wounded  and  captured.  He  was  held 
a  prisoner  for  some  time,  but  was  released  in  season  for  a  part 
in  the  Shenandoah  Campaign  of  1862.  His  career,  till  he  was 
wounded  at  Cedar  Creek,  we  know.  We  also  recall  that  his 
wife  generously  gave  to  every  member  of  the  corps  a  badge, 
which  they  proudly  wore  on  their  way  back  to  Petersburg  in 
December,  1864.  He  was  retired  from  the  army  in  1867  on  ac 
count  of  wounds  received  in  his  service.  He  died  in  Washing 
ton  September  22,  1887. 

Our  brigade  commander,  General  J.  Warren  Keifer,  is  still 
an  active  entity  in  the  affairs  of  the  people.  He  was  born  in 
Clark  county,  Ohio,  January  30,  1836,  and  was  educated  at 
Antioch  College,  the  particular  glory  of  Horace  Mann,  the  great 
educator.  He  went  into  service  as  major  of  the  3d  Ohio  at  the 
very  beginning,  April  19th,  and  was  commissioned  April  27th. 
September  30th,  1862,  he  became  colonel  of  the  110th  Ohio,  and 
we  made  his  acquaintance  later,  after  his  return  from  his  Wil 
derness  wounds,  for  he  was  four  times  wounded  during  the  war. 
Cedar  Creek  won  for  him  a  brevet  brigadiership,  and  he  was 
mustered  out  a  brevet  major  general.  A  lawyer,  he  went  into 
politics  after  the  war  and  was  sent  to  Congress,  over  the  lower 
branch  of  which  he  presided  as  speaker  during  the  47th  Con 
gress.  We  well  remember  his  power  in  speaking  on  occasion 
in  wartimes,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  he  should  enjoy  an 
enviable  reputation  in  this  respect.  He  was  the  orator  on  the 
unveiling  of  the  Garfield  monument  in  Washington.  His  home 
is  in  Springfield,  and  the  general  yields  to  no  one  in  his  devo 
tion  to  the  interests  of  the  men  whom  he  so  bravely  led  in 
1862-'65.  He  always  has  a  good  word  to  say  for  the  Ninth. 

How  the  corps  was  regarded  by  that  peerless  leader,  Sheri 
dan,  everybody  knows.  The  confidence,  won  by  experience  from 
Monocacy  to  Cedar  Creek,  was  mutual,  and  no  survivor  of  the 
6th  fails  to  dwell  on  the  fact  that  in  1865  he  refused  Grant's 
proffer  of  the  5th  Corps,  still  asking  for  the  6th.  It  was  the 
reputation  of  the  corps  gained  afoot  that  prompted  the  send 
ing  of  the  6th  on  the  swift  trip  to  Danville  in  April,  1865. 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  307 

General  Meade,  never  particularly  enthusiastic,  says  in  his 
report  of  the  Petersburg  advance  that  the  gallant  assault  of  the 
6th  Corps  on  the  3d  instant  was  the  decisive  movement  of  the 
campaign. 

At  the  end  of  the  century,  the  ranks  are  thin,  and  ere  many 
years  all  those  who  so  often  threaded  the  roads  of  Virginia  and 
Maryland,  who  explored  the  paths  and  fastnesses  of  the  valley, 
will  have  joined  their  leaders  in  a  land  where  no  alarms  of 
war  are  heard,  but  while  they  live  they  will  not  cease  to  chant : 

"Then  ere  we  part  to-night,  boys,  we'll  sing  our  song  the  more, 
With  chorus  swelling  long  and  clear,  God  bless  the  Old  6th  Corps." 


CHAPTER     XXVI. 

PRISONERS  OF  WAR. 
MY  CAPTURE  AND  ESCAPE. 

BY  W.  G.  DUCKETT. 

Late  Hospital  Steward,  3d  Battalion,  9th  N.  Y.  Heavy  Artillery,  now  of  Washington 

D.  C. 

I  was  surprised  and  taken  prisoner  by  a  reb  in  Uncle  Sam's 
uniform  on  July  9th.  1864,  between  7  and  8  o'clock  A.  M.,  about 
half  way  between  Monocacy  Junction  and  Frederick  City  on 
the  turnpike.  I  was  taken  back  to  General  Echols.  He  asked 
me  to  what  command  I  belonged.  I  told  him  to  the  6th  Corps. 
He  said:  "D — n  that  6th  Corps;  we  meet  them  wherever  w<> 
go."  I  told  him  he  would  find  the  whole  corps  there  to  wel 
come  him  "with  bloody  hands  to  hospitable  graves."  I  knew 
there  were  only  a  part  of  the  3d  Division  and  two  regiments 
of  100-day  men  there,  but  purposely  deceived  him,  and  I  be 
lieve  they  were  more  cautious  than  they  would  have  been  had 
they  known  our  real  strength,  and  we  were  saved  from  greater 
disaster.  I  remained  in  Frederick  City  during  the  day.  Quite 
a  number  of  prisoners  were  brought  in  during  the  day,  among 
them  Mead  of  Company  A.  In  the  evening  we  were  marched 
over  to  the  stone  mill  near  the  battlefield,  where  we  slept  in  a 
cowr-pen.  I  there  found  Lieutenant  Reuben  Burton  among  the 
prisoners,  and  as  I  had  lost  my  blanket  and  haversack,  gladly 


308  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

accepted  his  offer  to  share  his.  The  next  day  the  prisoners, 
numbering  about  600,  were  started  on  their  march  for  Wash 
ington.  We  crossed  over  a  part  of  the  battlefield  and  saw  many 
of  our  dead  on  the  field  and  generally  stripped  of  their  cloth 
ing.  We  arrived  in  front  of  Fort  Stevens  late  in  the  afternoon 
of  the  llth.  In  the  evening  after  the  fight  there,  the  prisoners 
were  started  Dixie-ward,  in  advance  of  the  retreating  rebels.  I 
am  glad  to  recall  one  noble  act  of  the  rebels,  who  have  so 
much  cruelty  charged  to  their  account.  My  friend  Burton  had 
been  very  sick  that  day  and  was  too  weak  to  walk,  and  I  ob 
tained  permission  from  a  rebel  surgeon  to  allow  him  to  ride 
in  an  ambulance,  while  many  of  their  men  wounded  and  worn 
had  to  walk  in  that  July  heat  and  dust.  We  marched  all  night, 
and  until,  I  think,  about  2  o'clock  P.  M.  next  day,  when  we 
reached  a  little  hamlet  called  Dawsonville.  We  were  marched 
into  a  grove  containing  probably  four  or  five  acres,  and  bounded 
on  two  sides  by  the  public  roads,  and  on  the  other  two  by  a 
large  wheat-field.  The  rebel  guards  were  stationed  along  the 
fence  a  few  rods  apart.  We  were  very  tired  after  our  long,  hot, 
dusty  march,  and  Burton  and  I  lost  no  time  in  spreading  *our 
blanket  for  a  sound  nap.  We  were  awakened  by  the  rebels 
calling  us  to  come  and  get  our  rations,  flour  and  fresh  beef 
only.  I  took  a  saunter  around  the  grove  to  awaken  myself, 
when  I  discovered  that  at  a  point  adjoining  the  wheat-field,  the 
fence  was  down  and  the  prisoners  were  allowed  to  pass  through 
into  the  field.  I  observed  that  our  guards  were  tired  too,  and 
not  keeping  a  very  strict  watch,  of  which  circumstance  I  de 
cided  to  take  immediate  advantage.  The  wheat  had  been  cut, 
bound  in  bundles  and  set  up  in  shocks  containing  about  fifteen 
bundles  each.  Watching  my  opportunity  I  stepped  behind  a 
shock,  and  dropping  on  my  hands  and  knees  forced  my  way  into 
it.  It  seemed  incredible  that  I  had  not  been  seen  by  one  of  the 
many  rebels  in  sight  of  me,  and  I  momentarily  expected  to  be 
dragged  out  by  the  heels,  but  I  soon  found  I  was  safe.  The  heat 
was  almost  suffocating  and  I  suffered  for  water.  The  prisoners 
were  soon  commanded  to  fall  in  and  they  continued  their  march 
to  prison,  from  which  many  never  returned.  I  determined  that 
as  soon  as  it  was  dark  I  would  put  for  the  woods  and  hide 
until  the  enemy  had  gone,  but  as  night  approached  the  rebel 
army  came  marching  by  and  kept  up  their  tramp,  tramp  all 
night  long.  They  passed  within  a  few  feet  of  me,  some  of  them 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  309 

brushing  against  my  frail  tenement,  so  I  could  not  carry  out 
my  plans.  The  stolen  horses  and  cattle,  together  with  baggage 
wagons,  artillery  and  cavalry,  took  the  road,  and  the  troops 
marched  through  the  fields.  When  daylight  came,  I  thought 
I  was  safe,  for  the  army  had  passed,  and  only  now  and  then  a 
straggler  or  two  came  by. 

About  7  o'clock  A.  M.,  however,  a  squad  of  cavalry  came  up, 
probably  the  rear  guard  picking  up  the  stragglers.  They  halted 
in  the  grove  to  get  their  breakfasts.  They  unlimbered  their 
forge  and  shod  some  horses,  and  I  feared  they  would  make  a 
long  halt.  One  of  the  horses  came  directly  to  my  straw  house 
and  captured  the  "cap  sheath,"  and  proceeded  to  refresh  his 
inner  horse  (not  inner  man,  of  course).  A  moment  later  a  sol 
dier  took  a  bundle  from  behind  me,  probably  to  sit  on.  Then 
a  soldier  sat  down  against  my  domicile  and  rudely  pressed 
against  my  knees.  It  was  getting  very  hot  then,  my  position 
was  cramped,  and  while  he  sat  there  I  could  not  move;  my 
whole  side  became  numb,  and  it  seemed  impossible  to  remain 
in  that  position  until  he  had  finished  his  breakfast.  Another 
bundle  was  taken,  letting  broad  daylight  smack  in  my  face; 
then  it  seemed  as  if  they  could  all  see  me.  Another  bundle  was 
taken,  exposing  my  knees,  and  the  man  was  still  sitting  there 
so  that  I  could  not  move.  Each  time  a  bundle  was  taken  I 
thought  the  next  would  certainly  cause  my  discovery.  Five 
bundles  were  taken  from  my  den,  and  when  I  finally  got  out  I 
noticed  that  shock  was  the  only  one  that  had  been  disturbed. 
I  remained  in  my  hiding-place  until  some  of  our  cavalry  came 
along  in  pursuit  of  the  retreating  foe.  I  mounted  one  of  their 
lead  horses,  and  went  with  them  to  Poolsville.  Kemaining 
there  a  day  or  two,  I  returned  to  Washington ;  assisted  Surgeon 
Sabin  in  reorganizing  the  hospital  at  Fort  Reno,,  Tennallytown. 
A  few  days  later  I  received  an  appointment  in  the  United  States 
Army,  where  I  remained  until  April,  1866,  when  I  was  dis 
charged  (because  I  was  no  longer  wanted). 

It  was  stated  to  me  while  a  prisoner  that  the  rebs  had  30,000 
men  in  the  Monocacy  fight  and  thirty  to  forty  pieces  of  artillery. 
Undoubtedly  the  battle  of  Monocacy  saved  Washington.  Well, 
comrades,  I  will  close  with  three  cheers  for  "the  Heavy  Ninth," 
and  may  the  memory  of  our  services  and  sufferings  for  the 
noble  cause  be  cherished  by  our  children  and  our  children's 
children  for  generations  to  come. 


310  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

NOTES  FROM  A  DIARY  KEPT  IN  DANVILLE  PRISON. 
BY  E.  P.  DUNNING  OF  COMPANY  D. 

July  11.  Rebs  use  us  well,  but  give  us  no  rations.  Kept  mov 
ing  till  we  reached  the  defenses,  where  the  rebs  are  fighting 
our  folks. 

July  12.  Some  firing  last  night;  we  are  on  the  pike  from  Rock- 
ville  to  Washington;  it  passes  by  Fort  Stevens,  Seventh  street 
road,  two  miles  from  Fort  S.,  and  six  from  centre  of  city;  about 
40,000  rebels. 

July  13.  With  the  rebels  fell  back  from  Washington  late 
last  night;  marched  all  night;  camped  at  noon  to-day. 

July  14.  Draw  scant  rations;  started  out  at  dark  last  night; 
reached  the  Potomac  this  morn  and  forded,  waist  deep. 

July  15.  Get  some  rest;  cannonading  in  our  rear;  some  hope 
of  being  recaptured. 

July  16.  Marched  at  1  A.  M.  from  two  miles  east  of  Leesburg 
to  one  mile  west  of  Upperville. 

July  17.  Passed  through  Ashby's  Gap,  forded  the  Shenan- 
doah,  camped  at  Millwood. 

July  18.  Reached  Winchester  at  noon.  Stayed  a  little  while ; 
camped  three  miles  south. 

July  19.    In  camp ;  rations  short,  flour  and  beef. 

July  20.  Started  at  daylight,  marched  eighteen  or  twenty 
miles  to  the  south  of  Strasburg;  camped  on  western  branch  of 
the  Shenandoah. 

July  22.  Scant  half  rations;  from  Strasburg  to  Mt.  Jackson, 
about  twenty-five  miles,  through  Edenburg,  Woodstock  and 
other  small  places. 

July  23.  From  Mt.  Jackson  to  near  Harrisonburg,  twenty- 
two  miles,  through  Newmarket;  stopped  two  hours  at  a  big 
spring  near  Sparta  to  cook  rations. 

July  24.  From  Harrisonburg  to  within  a  few  miles  of  Staun- 
ton,  through  Sidney  and  Mt.  Crawford;  camped  at  Willow 
Spring-  severe  storm  began  at  10  P.  M.  and  continued  all  night. 

July  25.  Left  at  daylight  and  reached  Staunton  at  9  A.  M. 
Took  cars  at  10  and  went  through  to  Charlottesville  under  the 
Blue  Ridge;  camped  at  6,  before  dark. 

July  26.  Took  cars  at  daylight  and  rode  to  Lynchburg,  get 
ting  there  at  about  noon.  All  of  us,  700,  are  in  an  old  tobacco 
warehouse. 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR. 


311 


July  27.  Closely  confined.  Our  tents  and  blankets  are  taken 
away  from  us.  Rations  somewhat  better. 

July  28.  Left  Lynchburg  for  Danville,  via  Lynchburg  and 
Petersburg  railroad.  From  Burksville  Junction  went  south 
ward. 

July  29.    Reached  Danville  at  daylight;  sixty  miles  from  L. 

to  Junction. 

July  30.  Six  hundred  men  in  our  squad;  250  on  our  floor. 
The  most  of  our  regiment  on  the  third  floor.  The  same  number 
is  on  the  second  floor;  sixty  wounded  men  on  the  first  floor; 
the  rest  are  in  the  attic.  Rations  at  9,  corn-bread  and  boiled 
cow-peas.  One  pint  of  soup  in  afternoon,  4  o'clock. 

July  31.    Rations  better  than  expected. 

August  1.  I  make  it  that  we  have  walked  250  miles  and  have 
ridden  300  to  reach  this  prison. 

August  2.  The  prisoners  from  the  Crater  (July  30)  came  in 
to-day.  Some  sixty  or  more  officers  were  put  into  our  first 
floor,  General  Bartlett*  from  Massachusetts,  having  only  one 
leg,  is  among  them. 

August  3.    Nothing  to  do  but  read  Bible  and  hunt  lice. 

August  4.  Officers  left,  they  say,  for  Georgia.  Others  came 
down  from  Lynchburg.  No  soup  to-day. 

August  5.  Gave  $12  for  three  dozen  onions.  Sold  some  at 
fifty  cents  a  piece;  had  ten  left  after  giving  three  for  a  ration 
of  bread.  Got  my  money  back. 


*The  famous  mine  explosion,  July  30,  '64,  Petersburg.  Gen'l  Wm.  F. 
Bartlett  had  lost  a  leg  at  Yorktown  in  1862.  Fortunately  for  him, 
it  was  his  wooden  leg  which  was  shattered  in  the  mine.  The  follow 
ing  is  from  his  journal,  printed  in  his  life,  p.  120: 

Tuesday,  August  2.  Carried  in  a  dirty  wagon  without  any  cover  to  the 
prison;  a  filthy  place,  an  old  warehouse  and  stores.  We  were  in  the  first 
floor,about  300,as  thick  as  we  could  lie.  No  ventilation.  I  saw  the  doctor 
in  the  morning;  he  said  he  would  send  me  to  the  hospital.  I  could  not 
eat  anything;  am  feverish  and  so  weak.  No  crutches.  I  have  to  be 
partly  carried,  partly  hop  along,  when  I  move.  Rations  issued,  corn- 
bread,  thick  loaf,  and  bacon.  I  can't  touch  either;  still  drink  water. 
If  I  do  not  get  away  from  here  very  soon,  I  never  shall.  Wagon  came 
for  me  about  six,  an  open  wagon  or  cart,  used  to  carry  bacon  in,  all 
covered  with  dirt  and  grease ;  gravel  spread  on  the  bottom  to  cover 
the  grease;  ride  over  rough  road  to  hospital;  am  in  a  tent,  old  and 
ragged,  but  airy;  good  breeze.  (Small-pox.)  (The  general  was  re 
tained  in  Danville  till  the  26th,  when  he  was  sent  to  Richmond,  where 
he  was  held  till  Sept.  24.  Evidently  he  did  not  like  prison  life  any  bet 
ter  than  the  rest  of  us.— A.  S.  R.) 


312  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

August  6.  Scrubbed  the  floor,  making  it  smell  better  than 
it  did  before.  Three  of  us  are  making  a  pair  of  pants  out  of  a 
shelter-tent. 

August  7.  Some  pork,  sent  down  from  the  North ;  black  bean 
soup  for  supper. 

August  8.  Soup  gave  me  summer  complaint;  9,  nothing  of 
note;  10,  rations  very  poor,  soup  makes  us  sick;  11,  still  poor  ra 
tions  ;  12,  get  Richmond  Enquirer. 

August  13.  Five  hundred  prisoners  came  into  the  prison  to 
day,  mostly  from  the  valley. 

August  14.  Heading  the  Bible  through;  15,  weather  very 
warm;  Company  K  man,  Wheater,  died  last  night. 

August  16.  River  water  roilly;  the  best  I  ever  drank  of  the 
kind. 

August  17.  With  Dunbar  brought  water  from  the  river.  Got 
extra  loaf  of  bread. 

August  18.  Rebs  took  from  us  to-day  about  all  we  had  left, 
as  haversacks,  rubber  blankets,  etc. 

August  19.  Sick  increasing;  25,  got  a  cup  of  salt  and  some 
bread  for  bringing  water. 

August  26.  A  new  bake-oven  gives  us  better  bread.  Some 
pork  instead  of  rusty  bacon. 

August  27.  Guards  bring  in  fruit,  etc.,  to  sell,  but  it  comes 
high,  thus:  apples,  $2  to  |4  per  dozen;  peaches,  |2  to  $5  per 
dozen;  onions,  $3  to  |6  per  dozen. 

August  29.  Surgeon  took  names  of  sick  and  wounded,  ex 
pecting  to  send  to  Richmond  for  exchange.  Wagered  an  oyster 
soup  with  York  that  we  would  be  out  of  here  in  six  weeks. 

August  30.  We  were  searched  again  for  valuables.  About 
300  sick  and  wounded  left  for  Richmond  this  afternoon;  31, 
lonesome  since  others  left. 

September  6.    News  of  the  fall  of  Atlanta. 

September  8.  Bet  an  oyster  dinner  with  Riggs  that  we 
should  be  within  our  lines  six  weeks  from  to-day. 

September  9.    Rations  grow  smaller. 

September  12.  Rebs  throwing  up  rifle-pits  across  the  river, 
near  bridge. 

September  13.  So  cold  that  many  have  to  walk  all  night  to 
keep  warm. 

September  14.  Crave  fat  meat;  cold  corn-bread  with  cold 
water  hardly  enough;  beans  not  fit  to  eat. 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  313 

September  15.  Fifteen  men  went  out  of  No.  6  to  work  for 
the  rebels. 

September  16.    Twenty  men  are  working  to-day. 

September  19.  Allowed  to  make  chip  fires,  in  the  yard,  for 
crust  coffee  and  toasted  corn-bread. 

September  20.  Inspected  by  rebel  General  Gardner.  Squads 
of  sick  sent  away  for  parole  or  exchange. 

September  21.  Men  and  negroes  are  working  on  fortifica 
tions. 

September  22.  Men  are  sought  for  to  serve  in  getting  out 
coal,  parole  of  honor;  also  men  are  solicited  to  enlist  in  the 
rebel  army. 

September  24.  One  hundred  and  nineteen  men  come  into  No. 
1  from  No.  6. 

September  25.  Six  hundred  new  prisoners  come  into  No.  6; 
hardtack  instead  of  corn-bread. 

September  28.  Six  men  detailed  to  serve  as  butchers  for  the 
prisoners.  (We  never  saw  much  of  their  work. — A.  S.  E.) 

September  29.  Soup  gave  all  those  who  ate  it  a  terrible  sum 
mer  complaint.  Sorry  mess  of  it. 

October  4.  Hear  it  reported  that  thirty-five  prisoners  have 
been  sworn  into  the  rebel  army. 

October  7.  Hear  that  Jeff.  Davis  was  in  Danville  yesterday, 
and  spoke  at  the  railroad  station.  (This  must  have  been  on  the 
return  of  Davis  from  a  visit  to  Augusta  to  confer  with  Generals 
Hardee,  Cobb,  Beauregard  and  others. — A.  S.  E.) 

October  10.  Men  at  work  on  the  fortifications  make  a  break ; 
seventy-five  of  them  escape.* 


*The  leader  of  this  break  was  Charles  F.  Porter  of  the  18th  Connect 
icut,  who  for  many  years  has  been  a  fellow  member  with  me  in  Post 
10,  G.  A.  R.,  in  Worcester,  Mass.  With  others  he  had  accepted  Major 
Morfit's  invitation  to  work  on  the  fortifications  across  the  river,  with 
the  full  purpose  of  using  the  opportunity  to  escape.  These  same 
works,  Jefferson  Davis,  in  April,  1865,  declared  to  be  faultily  located 
and  constructed.  They  began  working  on  the  8th,  and  on  their  re 
turn  to  the  prison,  No.  6,  were  treated  any  way  but  pleasantly  by  their 
comrades.  On  Monday,  the  10th,  they  overpowered  the  guard  and 
left.  Forty-five  men  made  the  start  towards  liberty.  Sixteen  suc 
ceeded  in  reaching  the  Union  lines.  Nine  prisoners,  including  Porter, 
traveled  westward,  and,  Nov.  30,  gave  themselves  up  to  General 
Stoneman,  near  Knoxville,  Tenn.  On  the  12th  of  Oct.  Colonel  Morfit, 
presumably  on  account  of  this  outbreak,  was  relieved  of  his  command 
in  Danville.— A.  S.  R. 


314  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

October  11.    One  hundred  men  sent  as  sick  to  Richmond. 

October  14.  With  other  sick,  leave  Danville  for  Richmond 
at  dark ;  15-16,  Richmond  is  an  improvement  on  Danville. 

October  17.  Went  down  the  river  on  a  flag-of-truce  boat. 
Leave  it  at  Aikin's  landing;  cross  one  and  a  half  miles  to  Va- 
rina.  Those  who  can't  walk  are  carried. 

October  18.  On  Union  flag-of-truce  boat  New  York.  There 
are  400  of  us ;  many  are  dying. 

October  19.    Start  for  Annapolis. 

October  20.  Reached  Annapolis  before  daylight;  sick  go  to 
St.  John's  Hospital,  others  to  Camp  Parole;  21-24,  in  hospital; 
November  3,  furlough  home.  (He  did  not  return  to  the  regi 
ment.— A.  S.  R.) 

FROM  MONOCACY  TO  DANVILLE. 

The  first  of  three  papers,  read  by  the  writer  of  this  volume,  before 
the  Rhode  Island  Soldiers  and  Sailors'  Historical  Society  in  Provi 
dence,  1889,  1890,  1891. 

Captured  in  battle  on  Saturday,  the  ninth  day  of  July,  1864, 
at  Monocacy,  or  Frederick  Junction,  Md.,  the  sun  was  well  up 
his  eastern  way  when  we,  under  Confederate  guard  and  guid 
ance,  turned  our  backs  on  the  burning  stubble  of  the  battle 
field — dotted  here  and  there  with  the  naked  bodies  of  our  com 
rades  slain,  and  took  a  road  of  which  we  knew  only  that  it  led 
southward.  I  have  since  learned  that  it  was  called  the  George 
town  pike.  It  was  crooked  and  dusty;  but  not  so  much  so  as  those 
which  we  had  found  in  Virginia.  A  request  to  go  out  of  the 
line  to  satisfy  myself  as  to  the  identity  of  a  dead  man,  lying  by 
the  fence,  is  refused  by  the  philosophical  guard,  who  tells  me 
that  I  am  better  off  without  knowing.  "For  if  he  is  your  friend 
you  will  have  just  so  much  more  to  trouble  you,  and  so  long  as 
you  don't  know,  why,  you  may  think  him  living.  If  he  is  not 
the  man  you  are  thinking  of,  it  isn't  worth  your  time  to  investi 
gate."  Such  cool  reasoning  as  that  I  thought  worthy  of  the 
Mussulmans  who  burned  the  Alexandrine  Library.  At  any 
rate  my  curiosity  and  interest  were  not  satisfied.  The  ascent 
from  the  valley  is  gradual,  and  as  we  wend  our  way,  we  re 
peatedly  turn  to  look  at  the  scene  that  is  to  be  indelibly 
painted  on  memory's  canvas.  The  river;  the  railroad,  with  its 
iron  bridge;  the  turnpike  bridge,  now  smoking  in  ruins;  the 
big  stone  mill,  near  whose  base  I  heard  the  last  order,  "Elevate 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  315 

jour  pieces,  men";  Colonel  Thomas's  house,  around  which  the 
tide  of  battle  had  surged  the  day  before,  and  lastly,  the  wheat- 
field,  whence  on  that  9th  of  July,  we  had  seen  two  harvests 
gathered:  the  one  in  the  early  morn  of  wheat,  the  staff  of  life, 
and  the  other  at  eve  of  men,  and  the  reaper  thereof  was  Death. 
Every  feature  of  this  scene  prints  itself  on  our  memories,  till 
finally  the  friendly  hill  shuts  off  the  view  and  we  can  now  give 
ourselves  entirely  to  our  immediate  surroundings. 

Marching  in  any  way,  under  a  July  sun,  in  the  Southern 
states,  is  not  particularly  pleasant.  In  our  own  lines,  where 
one  could  to  some  extent  pick  his  own  way,  provided  he  did 
not  straggle  too  much,  a  man  found  walking  wearisome;  but 
under  the  direction  of  an  enemy,  whose  march  was  largely  a 
forced  one,  where  we  must  keep  in  place  and  plod  along,  the 
course  became  especially  tedious.  It  soon  became  obvious, 
however,  that  we  had  more  friends  among  the  people  whom 
we  met  than  our  guards  had.  It  was  a  very  common  thing  to 
find  tubs  of  newly  drawn  water  placed  by  the  roadside  to  sat 
isfy  the  tormenting  thirst  engendered  by  the  excessive  heat. 
Of  our  approach,  I  suppose  the  people  had  been  informed  by 
the  enemy,  who  had  started  very  early  in  his  attempt  to  sur 
prise  Washington.  The  kind  and  sympathetic  looks  of  many 
dwellers  along  the  road,  to  say  nothing  of  some  pleasant  words 
now  and  then  heard,  went  far  to  alleviate  the  pain  of  our  con 
dition. 

There  were  between  600  and  700  of  us,  many  from  the  3d 
Division  of  the  6th  Corps,  and  others  from  the  one  hundred 
days  men  whom  Ohio  had  sent  into  the  fray.  It  was  their  first 
and  only  experience,  and  many  of  them  were  in  for  a  longer 
stay  in  rebel  prisons  than  their  whole  term  of  enlistment  called 
for.  Speaking,  once,  of  the  little  aid  afforded  by  them  at  the 
Monocacy  extremity,  to  a  Vermont  soldier  who  did  valiant 
service  on  that  day,  he  very  graphically  replied,  "Hundred  days 
men!  Pshaw!  They  were  only  honey  to  draw  the  flies."  I 
have  many  times  since  wondered  whether  I  did  just  right  in 
refusing  a  drink  from  my  canteen  to  a  tall,  muscular  Ohio  man 
of  the  above  category,  who  was  marching  unencumbered  by 
anything  save  his  uniform.  "Where  is  your  canteen?"  said  I. 
"I  threw  it  away  so  that  I  could  run,"  he  very  candidly  an 
swered.  Moved  by  everything  save  admiration  I  assured  him 
that  he  might  run  for  his  water.  I  know  there  was  little  of 


316  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

the  Sir  Philip  Sidney  in  this  reply  of  mine;  but  unlike  the  case 
of  the  great  Briton  and  the  dying  soldier,  I  did  not  think  his 
need  greater  than  mine.  Our  first  halt  was  at  a  pleasant  little 
village,  called  Urbana,  where  a  kind  citizen,  perhaps  Columbus 
Winsor  by  name,  of  strong  Union  sympathies,  sets  out  several 
barrels  of  sweet  crackers  for  our  comfort,  and  bids  us  help 
ourselves.  Many  intervening  years  have  not  wholly  effaced  the 
regret  that  was  mine  over  my  inability  to  get  what  I  deemed 
my  share  of  those  toothsome  morsels,  nor  my  admiration  for  the 
man  who  thus  remembered  those  in  bonds  as  bound  with  them. 

It  was  while  halting  here  that  a  rebel  major,  mounted  upon  a 
mule,  propounded  to  me  the  question  as  to  why  the  Yankees 
always  called  the  Southern  soldiers  "Johnnies."  I  assured  him 
of  my  inability  to  ascribe  it  to  any  other  reason  than  the  well- 
known  fact  that  johnny-cake  was  supposed  to  be  the  great 
source  of  life  in  the  South.  This  appeared  to  him  a  not  un 
likely  cause,  and  thereupon  entering  into  general  conversation, 
I  found  him  an  exceedingly  agreeable  gentleman.  I  soon 
learned,  moreover,  that  personally  there  could  be  very  little 
animosity  between  the  rebels  and  the  men  they  guarded.  The 
difference  lay  in  the  causes  that  they  represented. 

We  had  gone  only  about  four  miles  from  our  starting-place, 
and  the  time  must  have  been  near  noon,  but  the  command 
"Forward"  to  a  soldier,  bond  or  free,  is  seldom  more  welcome 
than  the  parental  summons  to  arise  in  the  morning  is  to  the 
farmer's  tired  and  sleepy  boy.  The  country  through  which  we 
were  marching  seemed  a  veritable  paradise.  Soon  after  pass 
ing  through  Hyattstown,  I  picked  up  a  letter,  written  from 
Georgia  to  a  relative — I  thought  a  brother — in  the  rebel  army. 
In  this  missive  the  writer  distinctly  narrated  the  circumstances 
of  several  cases  of  bushwhacking.  He  set  forth  in  the  shooting 
of  unsuspecting  soldiers  by  concealed  civilians,  in  one  case  an 
uncle,  for  which  offense  the  latter  was  summarily  hanged.  He 
also  told  of  situations  where  he  could  have  polled  one  for  the 
Confederacy,  but*  fear  of  Yankee  vengeance,  he  frankly  con 
fessed,  prevented.  This  interesting  and  valuable  letter  I  retained 
for  several  days,  till,  fearful  lest  finding  it  in  my  possession, 
my  captors  might  think  it  grounds  for  ill-treating  me,  I  threw 
it  away,  first,  however,  tearing  it  up.  In  these  days  of  general 
denials  of  all  rebel  atrocities  and  of  sympathy  with  the  Rebel 
lion,  such  written  testimony  as  the  above  would  have  a  particu 
lar  value. 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  317 

Our  forward  movement  is  unfraught  with  special  interest 
until  we  pass  through  the  hamlet  of  Clarksburg.  Near  the  out 
skirts  of  the  village  an  aged  man  is  sitting  at  an  open  window, 
the  house  being  very  near  the  street.  An  elderly  lady,  appar 
ently  his  wife,  is  leaning  past  him  with  hands  extended  upon 
the  window-sill.  So  dust-begrimed  are  we  that  I  do  not  wonder 
at  her  long  mistaking  us  for  a  part  of  the  rebel  throng  which 
all  day  long  has  been  passing  her  door.  Suddenly  light  dawns 
upon  her,  and  raising  her  hands,  with  an  astonished  tone  she 
exclaims:  "Why,  they  are  our  men!"  At  once  I  eagerly  ask, 
"Who  are  our  men?"  "Why,  Union  men,  of  course."  Utterly 
heedless  of  the  laws  supposed  to  govern  prisoners,  we  forgot 
our  situation  and  laughed  and  cheered.  But  the  nearest  guard, 
not  liking  such  demonstrations,  thrust  his  bayonet  through 
the  window  and  thus  drove  from  sight  the  good  old  dame,  who 
seemed  to  us  for  the  nonce  another  Barbara  Frietchie. 

Near  here  I  picked  up  a  copy  of  army  tactics,  prepared  ex 
pressly  for  those  desiring  to  be  examined  for  commission  in 
colored  regiments.  I  remember  well  the  thought  that  possibly, 
during  the  period  of  my  retention,  I  might  be  able  to  stow 
away  enough  military  knowledge  to  enable  me  to  pass  suc 
cessfully  the  examinations  on  my  release,  but  this,  too,  I 
dropped  the  first  time  we  were  drawn  up  to  be  searched  for  val 
uables,  not  knowing  how  my  captors  might  look  upon  a  would- 
be  officer  among  colored  men.  For  aught  I  knew,  the  first  man 
to  throw  it  away  did  so  for  reasons  similar  to  mine.  To  tell  the 
truth  I  had  several  spells  of  carrying  books  while  in  the  army, 
spells,  however,  that  became  much  less  intense  as  the  heat  and 
length  of  marches  increased.  I  found  many  boys  of  similar 
tastes  and  experiences. 

Our  first  camp  was  south  of  Clarksburg,  and  as  our  haver 
sacks,  filled  on  the  field  of  Monocacy,  were  yet  distended,  there 
was  nothing  unusual  in  our  preparation  of  coffee  and  consump 
tion  of  hard-tack,  nor  in  the  refreshing  sleep  that  soon  fell  upon 
us. 

All  the  way  down  our  guards  had  jokingly  told  us  of  the  gay 
time  expected  by  them  on  their  entering  Washington,  remarks 
that  we  took  more  in  the  spirit  of  banter  than  otherwise,  hardly 
thinking  it  possible  that  Early  would  have  the  temerity  to 
beard  the  lion  in  his  den.  When,  however,  on  the  next  day, 
Monday,  the  llth,  we  turned  to  the  left  on  passing  through 


318  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Rockville,  we  knew  that  at  least  a  feint  was  to  be  made.  This 
was  a  little  before  noon,  about  the  time  that  the  Confederates 
reached  the  head  of  Seventh  street,  and  found  that  the  delay 
at  Monocacy  had  been  fatal  to  success  here,  for  old  soldiers  from 
the  6th  Corps  had  reached  the  Capital  in  time  to  save  it.  He 
who  saw  and  heard  the  strife  from  another  standpoint  may 
never  know  the  relief  afforded  to  the  people  of  Washington 
when  those  veterans,  bearing  the  Greek  cross,  marched  through 
their  midst.  Never  till  then,  I  trow,  had  they  appreciated  the 
magic  import  of  the  figure  seen  by  Constantine  and  which  he 
followed  to  victory.  In  hoc  signo,  they  felt  that  they  were 
safe.  What  confidence  the  movement  of  well-tried  regiments 
begets!  Taking  the  place  of  the  government  clerks,  the  hos 
pital  convalescents  and  the  veteran  reserves,  these  old  soldiers 
were  ready  to  give  to  the  Confederate  commander  an  assurance 
that  he  was  not  Early  enough  for  them.  As  one  rebel  told  me, 
the  Union  men  were  placed  so  as  to  completely  entrap  the 
attacking  force,  and  only  luck  prevented  this  consummation. 

But  to  my  personal  observations.  Between  Rockville  and 
Washington  we  were  drawn  up  in  line  and  thoroughly  searched. 
Money  was  the  chief  object  of  rebel  cupidity,  and  all  that  could 
be  found  was  seized.  In  expectation  of  such  an  event,  the  men 
having  money  had  carefully  concealed  it,  so  that  the  net  re 
sults  must  have  been  exceedingly  meagre.  It  was  here,  thus 
drawn  up,  that  I  first  saw  ex-Vice-President  Breckinridge.  I 
remember  him  as  one  of  the  finest  looking  men  I  ever  saw. 
His  face  was  so  classically  cut,  and  his  eye  so  piercing,  at  any 
distance,  that  now  with  an  interval  of  nearly  twenty-four 
years,  I  can  see  him  as  he  sat  his  horse  and  directed  his  men. 
I  remember  thinking,  too,  that  an  ex-vice-president  might  and 
ought  to  be  in  better  business  than  seeking  to  destroy  the  place 
where,  for  four  years,  he  had  been  the  recipient  of  so  many 
honors.  In  addition  to  seeing  General  Early  often,  we  saw 
Kodes  and  McCausland,  who  were  the  most  conspicuous  leaders 
in  this  expedition. 

The  day  itself  was  one  of  the  hottest  of  a  very  hot  summer, 
and  many,  both  Federal  and  Confederate,  were  overcome  by  the 
heat.  While  traveling  this  road  southeast  from  Rockville,  we 
saw  mortar  shells  sent  up  from  the  defenses,  and  the  curves 
described  by  them  were  most  beautiful.  Exploding  high  in 
air,  at  times,  they  gave  a  superb  display  of  pyrotechnics, though 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  319 

I  must  confess  that  our  admiration  was  somewhat  tempered 
with  apprehension  lest  "some  droppings  might  fall  on  us/' 
To  be  wounded  or  killed  was  not  longed  for  at  any  time,  but 
certainly  we  didn't  fancy  blows  from  the  hands  of  our  friends. 

The  afternoon  was  half  spent  when  we  filed  to  our  left  into 
an  apple  orchard  and  were  ordered  to  camp.  We  had  passed 
Silver  Spring,  the  home  of  Montgomery  Blair,  and  from  the 
nearness  of  the  firing  I  concluded  that  we  were  pretty  close 
to  the  head  of  Seventh  street.  I  recall  very  vividly  that  several 
times  during  that  afternoon,  the  early  evening  and  the  day 
following,  shells  from  our  own  batteries  went  shrieking 
through  the  tops  of  the  trees  under  which  we  were  lying.  It 
required,  however,  no  great  acumen  to  understand  that  the 
Confederates  were  not  finding  matters  to  their  satisfaction. 
The  noise  of  the  encounter  on  the  12th  was  great,  and  the 
rebel  yell,  varied  by  Union  shouts,  seemed  as  vivid  as  ever. 
Our  Confederate  foes  must  have  thought  the  6th  Corps  well- 
nigh  ubiquitous,  for  they  had  left  behind  them  the  blue  cross 
at  Monocacy,  and  here  they  were  confronted  by  the  same  em 
blem,  though  the  color  was  white.  The  red  was  there,  too, 
ready  for  the  fight,  if  necessary.  Little  did  we  think  then 
that  President  Lincoln  was  himself  witnessing  the  discomfiture 
of  the  enemy  and  the  victory  of  our  friends  and  comrades. 

The  night  of  the  12th  had  shut  down  upon  us  and  was  well 
advanced  when  we  were  ordered  out,  and  this  time  our  faces 
were  set  away  from  the  Capital.  By  the  light  of  Montgomery 
Blair's  burning  mansion,  we  marched  away  for  the  Confed 
eracy.  We  then  said  that  the  house  was  destroyed  in  retalia 
tion  for  the  destruction  of  Governor  Letcher's  home  in  Lexing 
ton,  burned  by  Hunter;  but  General  Early  has  since  disclaimed 
any  complicity  in  the  matter.  He  has  personally  told  me  that 
he  found,  on  facing  Fort  Stevens,  that  the  purpose  for  which 
he  was  sent  by  Lee  had  been  subserved,  i.  e.,  some  troops,  he 
knew  not  how  many,  had  been  drawn  from  Petersburg,  and  this 
very  arrival,  while  it  blocked  his  entrance,  lessened  Lee's  dan 
ger.  He  had  not,  from  the  moment  of  finding  6th  Army  Corps 
men  there,  entertained  the  possibility  of  getting  into  Wash 
ington.  Opposed  as  wre  were  to  the  cause  of  the  Rebellion, 
yet  I  think  we  can  afford  a  little  praise  for  this  affair,  though 
an  unrelenting  foe,  in  his  leading  his  men  by  forced  marches 
over  many  hundreds  of  miles,  through  a  not  over  friendly 


320  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

country  in  some  cases,  down  to  the  very  Capital  of  the  nation. 
Nothing  but  final  sucess  was  wanting  to  make  him  the  Alaric 
of  the  century. 

The  morning  light  was  breaking  when  on  the  13th  we 
passed,  for  the  second  time,  through  Rockville.  It  may  have 
been  five  o'clock,  for  I  know  the  citizens  were  beginning  to 
make  their  appearance,  and  one  good  old  lady  quite  touched 
my  heart  when,  through  her  glasses,  she  beamed  kindly  on  me 
and  in  the  sweetest  of  voices  said,  "Good  morning."  How 
those  two  trite,  commonplace  words,  so  often  misapplied,  light 
ened  the  burdens  of  that  long,  toilsome  day!  It  was  a  good 
morning  to  me  only  in  the  thought  that  I  had  seen  one  kind, 
sympathetic  woman  who,  as  she  spoke  to  me,  may  have  been 
thinking  of  a  boy  of  her  own,  possibly  at  that  moment  in  dis 
tress  somewhere  in  this  troubled  land.  All  through  the  hours 
of  that  weary  day,  at  high  noon  and  at  sultry  eve,  still  rang  in 
my  ears  those  pleasant  tones,  so  that  even  when  our  march 
was  prolonged  all  through  the  night,  it  was  still  to  me,  "Good 
morning." 

We  halted  occasionally  for  rest  and  food,  but  nearly  all  the 
time  we  were  in  motion.  The  feet  of  some  of  the  prisoners  be 
came  terribly  sore.  Those  of  Charley  R ,  of  my  company, 

seemed  like  two  big  blisters,  i.  e.,  as  though  the  sole  had  quite 
separated  from  the  foot.  Great  tears  would  roll  down  his 
face.  He  couldn't  keep  them  back,  but  not  a  whimper  did  any 
one  ever  hear  from  his  lips.  At  one  of  our  halting-places  two 
of  our  party,  being  Lieutenant  Burton,  of  Company  B,  and  W. 
E.  Duckett,  of  K,  succeeded  in  hiding  in  some  shocks  of  wheat 
and  made  good  their  escape.  Others  tried  it,  but  were  caught. 
During  the  13th  we  found  our  guards  not  quite  so  dis 
posed  to  discuss  the  capture  of  Washington  as  they  had  been 
on  Sunday  and  Monday.  In  fact,  they  were  exceedingly  wasp 
ish,  and  on  very  slight  provocation  shouted,  "Dry  up,  Yank!" 

Passing  through  Poolesville,  in  the  gray  of  dawn,  we  came 
to  White's  Ford,  on  the  Potomac,  only  a  short  distance  above 
the  scene  of  the  terrible  disaster  of  Ball's  Bluff.  The  river  here 
is  wide  and  shallow,  affording  an  easy  passage  so  far  as  the 
depth  of  water  is  concerned.  But  appearances  are  often  decep 
tive,  for  the  bottom  of  the  stream  is  exceedingly  slippery.  I 
profited  by  the  misfortunes  of  those  in  front  of  me.  Many, 
trusting  to  themselves  alone,  would  undertake  the  passage. 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  321 

but  slipping  upon  a  smooth  stone  covered  with  weeds,  down 
would  go  their  heads  and  up  would  turn  their  heels,  thus  giv 
ing  the  soldiers  involuntary  baptisms.  Seeing  many  instances 
of  this,  I  joined  arms  with  a  like-minded  friend  and  thus  brac 
ing  each  other  we  made  the  transit,  dry  as  to  the  upper  portion 
of  our  bodies.  This  was  on  the  morn  of  the  14th,  and  soon 
after  we  went  into  bivouac  at  a  point  called  Big  Spring,  so 
named  from  the  immense  pool  of  water,  the  first  of  the  large 
number  of  ever-flowing  springs  that  we  were  to  encounter  on 
our  march.  It  was  nicely  walled  about  and  large  enough  for 
a  hundred  cattle  to  drink  from  it  at  the  same  time.  Here  we 
rested,  and  for  the  first  time  essayed  to  cook  our  own  food, 
as  our  escort  had  been  obliged  to  do  all  along.  When  I  contrast 
the  living  facilities  of  the  Union  and  Confederate  armies,  I 
am  amazed  that  the  latter  held  out  as  long  as  they  did.  The 
Northern  soldier,  when  he  went  into  camp,  tired  from  his  day's 
march,  made  his  coffee,  ate  his  hard-tack,  perhaps  gave  it  a 
little  relish  from  the  piece  of  salt  pork  that  he  had  in  his 
haversack,  and  in  twenty  minutes  was  getting  welcome  rest 
from  "tired  nature's  sweet  restorer." 

But  not  so  his  Southern  foe.  When  his  bivouac  came 
he  had  no  coffee  to  boil,  unless  there  had  recently  been  a  flag 
of  truce,  and  there  was  no  bread,  hard  or  soft,  for  him.  In  the 
wagons  were  numerous  long-handled,  three-legged  skillets,  hav 
ing  heavy  iron  tops.  These  must  be  obtained,  and  the  flour 
dealt  out  to  them  had  to  be  cooked,  each  mess  by  itself.  As 
there  were  not  dishes  enough  for  all  to  cook  at  once,  some  had 
to  wait  their  turn.  In  fact  I  learned  that  during  a  halt  some 
one  was  cooking  constantly.  As  they  did  not  carry  yeast  nor 
anything  like  it,  and  as  they  had  but  little  salt,  it  must  be 
seen  that  their  bread  would  not  have  offended  the  most  ad 
vanced  hydropath^  nor  have  troubled  a  Jew,  even  during  the 
Feast  of  the  Passover.  Our  Monocacy  rations  had  given  out 
and  we  were  supplied  with  raw  flour,  the  result,  I  suppose,  of 
some  part  of  the  Maryland  foray.  Bread-making,  thus,  was  a 
new  experience  to  us,  and  we  didn't  like  it.  As  for  myself  I 
must  state  that  I  gave  up  the  skillet  entirely,  and  mixing  the 
flour  with  as  little  water  as  possible,  adding  what  salt  I  could 
spare,  I  strung  the  dough  out  something  like  maccaroni,  and 
having  wound  this  around  a  stick  proceeded  to  warm  it 
through,  holding  it  over  the  fire,  rather  a  hot  task  on  a  July 
21 


322  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

day.  I  may  say  that  I  seldom  burned  my  food  thus.  I  couldn't 
wait  long  enough.  In  summing  up  the  advantages  held  by  our 
side,  let  us  not  forget  to  lay  great  stress  on  the  superiority  of  our 
commissariat,  and  among  the  items  there  found  put  among  the 
very  first,  coffee,  an  article  more  worthy  the  praises  of  Burns 
than  the  barleycorn  that  he  has  immortalized. 

We  rest,  with  no  incident  worthy  of  note  save  the  artillery 
firing  by  Union  forces  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  at  the 
retiring  rebel  cavalry ,  till  about  midnight.  We  are  then 
aroused,  and  again  go  plodding  along,  kept  well  in  line  by  our 
flanking  guards.  It  is  barely  dawn  as  we  pass  through  Lees- 
burg,  but  we  are  too  sleepy  and  careless  to  note  what  is  really 
a  most  lovely  village.  It  is  apparent  that  our  captors  have  no 
time  to  spare,  for  they  hasten  along  throughout  the  entire  day, 
making  no  more  halts  than  seem  absolutely  necessary.  We 
bear  a  little  to  the  southward,  and  finally  enter  Ashby's  Gap 
of  the  Blue  Ridge.  The  region  is  mountainous  and  wild,  show 
ing  very  little  for  the  many  years  that  man  has  occupied  it. 
The  outlook  to  the  eye  is  grand,  and  repeatedly  the  observation 
is  heard,  "What  a  glorious  sight  this  would  be  were  I  not  a 
prisoner."  As  a  soldier,  it  did  not  take  me  long  to  learn  that 
he  marches  easiest  who  is  nearest  the  head  of  the  column.  Ac 
cordingly,  as  the  days  returned,  Charley  K and  I  were  found 

in  place  with  only  a  file  of  Pennsylvanian  lieutenants  ahead  of 
us,  we  yielding  the  place  out  of  courtesy,  for  we  were  early 
enough  for  the  first,  but  the  easiest  place,  to  our  blistered  feet, 
was  hard.  Again  our  march  was  protracted  long  into  the 
night.  So  sleepy  were  we  that  we  could  sleep  even  when 
walking,  and  many  a  hapless  wight  in  a  walking  dream  and 
thus,  perhaps,  falling  out  of  line,  was  by  the  guard  speedily 
"hurried  back  to  despair"  and  wakefulness.  It  was  for  the 
guards  themselves  a  trying  time,  but  their  sleepiness  never 
reached  the  point  of  allowing  us  to  escape.  Early  and  his 
forces  had  gone  through  the  mountains  at  Snicker's  Gap,  thus 
keeping  themselves  between  us  and  our  army. 

The  hours  of  our  night  march  wore  on  till  about  3  A.  M., 
when  we  stood  on  the  banks  of  the  Shenandoah,  a  name  famil 
iar  to  me  from  my  earliest  boyhood,  when  I  had  learned  the 
speech  of  the  Indian  chief  bearing  this  name,  but  I  had  never 
dreamed  of  such  an  introduction  as  I  was  about  to  have.  There 
was  neither  bridge  nor  ferry,  and  to  our  tired  bodies  the  water 


PRISONERS    OP    WAR.  323 

had  an  almost  winter  chilliness  as  we  waded  in.  It  was  deep, 
too,  we  having  to  hold  our  hands  well  up  to  keep  them  out 
of  the  water.  Drenched  and  dripping,  we  trudged  along  into 
the  small  village  of  Millwood.  Some  of  us  were  allowed  to  lie 
down  by  the  side  of  a  church,  on  whose  corner  I  read  in  the 
semi-darkness,  "Methodist  Episcopal  Church  South."  I  may, 
I  hope,  be  pardoned  for  having  even  then  a  feeling  of  pride 
that  the  division  in  1844  of  this  great  church,  in  which  I  had 
been  reared,  was  one  of  the  prime  causes  in  awakening  people 
to  the  enormity  of  slavery.  However,  though  the  church  was 
hot  enough  on  this  mooted  subject,  I  found  the  north  side  of 
the  edifice  extremely  cool  on  that  morning,  and  I  was  in  no 
ways  loth  to  move  when  at  sunrise  we  "fell  in"  and  marched 
over  to  a  grove  a  few  rods  away.  I  was  too  tired  and  sleepy  to 
eat,  and  all  I  wanted  was  a  chance  to  lie  down.  I  remember 
well  putting  my  head  in  the  shade  and  stretching  my  body 
out  so  that  the  friendly  rays  of  the  sun  might  dry  my  soaked 
garments.  How  long  I  slept  I  don't  know ;  but  when  I  awoke, 
the  sun,  in  his  climbing  the  sky,  had  not  only  dried  my  clothes, 
but  he  had  well-nigh  baked  my  face,  upon  which  he  was  shin 
ing  with  nothing  to  intervene.  We  spent  Sunday,  the  17th, 
here,  and  went  through  the  usual  routine  of  drying  dough. 
Here  I  traded  with  a  rebel  lieutenant  for  food  a  pair 
of  heavy  woolen  gloves  taken  by  me  from  a  vagrant  knapsack 
on  the  9th.  I  had  kept  them  for  just  such  a  purpose;  but  I 
had  no  idea  he  would  use  them  in  torrid  July  weather.  Imagine 
my  astonishment  at  seeing  him  wearing  them  in  the  hottest 
part  of  the  next  day  as  we  were  going  through  Winchester,  and 
actually  putting  on  airs  on  account  of  his  gloved  hands. 

Monday  we  were  off  again,  and  I  have  since  learned  really 
going  out  of  our  way  several  miles  to  pass  through  the  city 
of  Winchester,  thus  contributing,  I  suppose,  one  to  the  eighty- 
seven  occupations  which  that  devoted  city  had  during  the 
years  of  the  war.  It  was  ten  miles  away,  and  we  were  marched 
this  distance  that  we  might  assist  our  guards  in  exciting  ad 
miration  among  the  denizens  of  the  town.  It  was  simply  an 
illustration  of  a  characteristic  as  old  as  man  himself. 

What  Koruan  triumph  was  complete  without  its  crowd  of 
captives?  The  savage  Indian  led  his  prisoners  home  that  he 
might  see  the  exultations  of  the  squaws  and  thereby  increase 
the  story  of  his  prowess;  and  we,  too,  had  to  grace,  not  a 


324  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Koman,  but  a  Winchester  holiday.  For  the  first  time  in  my  life 
I  heard  insulting  expressions  hurled  at  us  from  female  lips. 
Revolting  to  me,  to  the  scions  of  chivalry  escorting  us  the 
words  seemed  sweet  indeed.  It  was  here  that  my  rebel  Adonis 
sported  his  woolen  gloves.  Passing  through  the  city  to  the  west 
side,  we  went  into  camp,  and  soon  had  a  little  compensation 
for  the  rude  terms  launched  at  us  during  the  afternoon.  The 
officers  of  our  guard  undertook  to  billet  themselves  on  a  family 
living  near,  at  any  rate  within  hearing.  They  were  warmly 
received.  In  fact,  nothing  but  hot  water  was  lacking  to  make 
the  reception  scalding.  The  women,  we  learned,  were  Union 
ists,  and  they  didn't  propose  to  wait  on  rebels,  and  they  didn't. 
The  interview  was  music  to  us. 

The  next  morning  we  left  this  city  of  many  tribulations,  and 
going  out  on  Braddock  street,  took  the  famous  turnpike  south 
ward.  It  is  the  same  road  that  subsequent  events  were  to. 
elevate  into  enduring  fame,  as — 

"A  good,  broad  highway  leading  down." 

To  us  it  seemed  the  perfection  of  road-making,  so  level  and 
straight  that  we  were  prone  to  say  that  we  could  see  in  the 
morning  where  we  were  to  camp  at  night.  Under  other  cir 
cumstances  a  prospect  of  a  trip  up  the  ninety-two  miles  lead 
ing  to  Staunton  would  have  been  delightful.  The  valley  of 
Virginia  was  famous  the  world  over  for  beauty  of  scenery 
and  fertility  of  soil.  On  every  hand  were  indications  of  thrift- 
Large  and  expensive  buildings  and  well-tilled  fields  afforded 
pleasing  contrasts  to  the  slatternly  state  of  affairs  in  the  east 
ern  part  of  the  state.  Immense  stacks  of  wheat  attested  the 
significance  of  the  often-heard  expression,  "the  granary  of 
Virginia."  As  rapidly  as  possible  the  farmers  were  threshing 
the  grain,  farmers  we  were  told  now,  but  soldiers  when  the 
work  was  done.  This  was  the  section  over  which  Sheridan 
was  to  sweep  and  to  leave  it  so  desolate  that  were  a  crow  to 
fly  over  it,  "he  would  have  to  carry  his  rations  with  him." 
For  four  years  the  enemy  had  swept  in  and  out,  at  such  oppor 
tune  moments  as  would  permit  him  to  put  in  his  crops,  and 
later  to  harvest  them.  The  ways  of  the  rough-riding  "Little 
Phil"  were  not  to  the  liking  of  the  people,  and  to  this  day 
they  have  no  good  word  for  him.  In  spite,  however,  of  the 
brightness  of  the  scene,  the  cloud  of  slavery  hung  over  it,  and 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  325 

men  who  claimed  to  be  fighting  for  liberty  were  still  oppress 
ing  the  bondsmen.  I  shall  never  forget  my  astonishment  at 
seeing  at  one  of  our  bivouacs  a  fine-looking  old  gentleman., 
without  a  suspicion  of  the  black  race  in  his  appearance,  hesi 
tate  at  coming  into  our  camp.  He  appeared  to  be  very  much 
afraid  of  the  guards.  I  accosted  him  in  some  way,  implying 
my  thought  that  he  was  one  of  the  old  planters  living  near. 
"No,"  said  he,  "I  am  a  slave."  If  never  before,  I  then  was 
more  than  glad  that  I  was  one  of  many  thousands  whose  mis 
sion  it  was  to  make  him  and  others  like  him  free. 

Of  the  many  natural  wonders  and  beauties  of  the  valley 
we  had  little  time  or  disposition  to  comment,  though  we  could 
not  help  noticing  the  excellent  springs  that  this  mountainous 
and  limestone  region  afforded.  One  in  particular  I  recall,  per 
haps  near  Mount  Jackson,  that  poured  from  the  side  of  a  hill 
with  volume  sufficient  to  turn  the  overshot  wheel  of  a  grist-mill 
located  hard  by.  Doubtless  it  was  simply  the  reappearance 
of  a  lost  river,  a  phenomenon  not  uncommon  in  such  sections. 
Our  usual  camping-place  was  near  one  of  these  ever-flowing 
springs,  so  that  one  essential  to  health,  viz.,  good  water,  was 
not  lacking.  The  villages,  of  which  there  were  many,  I  remem 
ber  thinking  no  addition  to  the  beauties  of  the  country.  Watts' 
hymn  seemed  applicable  here,  for  while  every  prospect  pleased, 
man  and  his  village  works  alone  were  vile.  They  were  com 
posed  of  tumble-down  houses,  not  made  so  by  the  vicissitudes 
of  war,  but  wearing  a  down-at-the-heel  look  which  seemed 
natural,  another  of  the  legitimate  results  of  slavery's  curse. 
At  Strasburg  we  bade  good-by  to  the  railroad  grading,  whose 
railless  and  bridgeless  track  had  constantly  reminded  us  of  the 
devastations  of  war.  One  village,  however,  held  a  bright  place 
in  our  memories,  for  in  passing  through  Woodstock,  we  saw 
two  girls,  apparently  in  their  teens,  sitting  on  the  steps  in  front 
of  the  house,  and  actually  having  small  Union  flags  pinned 
upon  their  breasts.  We  were  not  slow  in  discovering  this 
patriotic  display  nor  in  making  our  appreciation  known.  To 
the  credit  of  the  guards  be  it  said  that,  though  seemingly  much 
chagrined  at  this  proceeding,  they  did  not  disturb  the  girls 
in  their  sympathy,  nor  us  in  our  sentiments.  This  place  must 
have  a  sort  of  political  contrariness,  for  it  is  now  the  home  of  a 
Virginian  Republican  senator,  viz.,  H.  H.  Riddleberger.  Near 
ly  twenty-four  years  afterward,  passing  through  the  same  re- 


326  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

gion,  I  found  that  peace  has  won  for  the  valley  great  victories. 
Those  who  saw  these  villages  then  would  not  recognize  them 
now.  Progress  has  taken  them  in  hand  and  thrift  is  evident 
everywhere. 

Our  guards  I  have  thought  a  little  above  the  average  Con 
federate  soldier,  and  in  our  bivouacs  it  was  no  uncommon 
thing  for  us  to  hold  with  them  very  animated  discussions, 
always  amicable,  except  when  the  negro  was  debated.  On 
one  occasion,  words  had  run  pretty  high,  when  the  gray- jacket 
thought  to  clinch  an  argument  by  the  threadbare  question: 
"How  would  you  like  to  have  your  sister  or  mother  marry  a 
nigger?"  There  was  no  delay  in  bluecoat's  rejoinder,  "Well 
enough,  if  they  wanted  to,  and  how  can  I  tell  but  what  your 
mother  did."  There  were  a  bayonet  thrust,  a  sudden  retreat, 
and  no  more  argument  that  day.  One  youngish  guard  quite 
made  me  homesick  by  saying  in  my  hearing  one  Sunday,  "Oh, 
dear!  If  I  was  only  at  home  down  in  Alabama;  wouldn't  I 
take  a  ride  to-day!"  This  and  other  remarks  showed  me  how 
similar  in  tastes  we  were  and  how  absurd  a  war  between 
brothers  was.  Personally  I  had  very  little  to  complain  of. 
Once,  however,  as  we  filed  into  a  field  where  we  were  to  camp 
I  laid  hold  of  a  piece  of  rail  to  burn  in  subsequent  cooking  op 
erations.  "Drop  that  rail!"  shouted  a  guard.  I  affected  not 
to  hear,  or  to  think  that  I  was  not  the  "Yank"  referred  to,  and 
so  clung  to  the  coveted  bit  of  timber.  When,  however,  the 
second  command  came,  coupled  with  a  threat  to  shoot  and  the 
clicking  of  a  cocking  hammer,  I  dropped  the  stick.  Just  why 
he  was  so  very  particular  at  that  time  I  don't  know,  for  there 
was  little  hesitation  on  the  part  of  friend  or  foe  to  burn  the 
farmers' fences.  In  fact,  the  rage  of  one  Virginian  planter  on  this 
expedition  is  vividly  recalled.  He  came  upon  us  and  soundly 
berated  the  rebels  for  burning  his  rails,  which  he  had  only 
just  put  in  place  after  a  previous  destruction  by  Union  forces. 
Thus  it  was,  as  a  Confederate  sympathizer  has  since  told  me, 
"The  Confederates  robbed  us  because  they  thought  we  ought 
to  be  willing  to  part  with  everything  for  the  good  of  the  cause, 
while  the  Union  forces  took  all  they  could  get  as  spoils  of 
war." 

There  could  not  be  600  and  more  men  thus  gathered  together 
and  no  peculiar  characters  appear  among  them.  Of  our  party 
perhaps  the  most  conspicuous  were  two  men  of  the  "Ninth," 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  327 

known  as  "Old  G.  and  T."  Both  must  have  lied  roundly  as  to 
their  ages  when  they  were  enlisted,  for  they  certainly  looked 
to  be  nearly  sixty  years  old.  They  stuck  by  each  other,  mak 
ing  common  cause  against  us  younger  men,  but  frequently 
quarreling  with  each  other.  On  one  occasion  our  purveyor  had 
dealt  out  to  us  a  quantity  of  beef's  lights  or  lungs  for  food. 
Now  be  it  known  that  however  hungry  I  may  have  been,  I 
never  liked  that  kind  of  meat,  but  these  two  old  soldiers 
would  eat  all  they  could  get,  and  would  even  fight  over  the 
division  of  the  share  that  fell  to  them.  So  loud  ran  the  dis 
cussion  that  we  gradually  fell  to  listening,  and  were  not  a 
little  pleased  at  hearing  G.  say,  "T.,  you  old  d — 1,  you!  if  it 
wasn't  for  exposing  you,  I'd  tell  this  whole  camp  how  you  used 
to  steal  turkeys;"  and  this  shouted  at  the  top  of  his  voice.  They 
never  heard  the  last  of  it  till  prison  rigors  closed  the  ears  of 
both  in  silent  death. 

Eight  miles  north  of  Staunton  we  made  our  first  camp  at 
what  was  called  the  Willow  Spout,  a  beautiful  spring  gushing 
out  constantly  from  the  side  of  a  hill,  and  I  have  recently 
learned  that  it  is  flowing  now  as  then,  and  still  bearing  the 
same  name.  Here  a  starlit  night  shut  down  upon  us,  cold  as 
Virginian  nights  always  were.  M.  J.  and  I  made  our  beds  as 
usual,  with  one  rubber  blanket  under  and  another  over  us. 
The  sleep  that  tired  youth  secures  so  easily,  speedily  came 
and  sealed  our  eyelids.  How  late  it  was  that  I  awoke  and  found 
the  rain  falling  pitilessly  I  have  no  means  of  knowing,  but  the 
whole  camp  seemed  aroused,  and  dripping  men  were  walking 
about  in  all  sorts  of  disconsolate  moods.  Some  had  secured 
a  quantity  of  wood  and  had  started  a  great  fire,  giving  comfort 
to  one  part  of  their  bodies  at  a  time.  Save  my  face  I  was  as 
dry  as  ever.  Drawing  my  head  in  like  a  turtle  I  flattered  my 
self  that  I  should  sleep  till  morning  and  be  not  a  whit  worse 
for  the  rain.  Alas!  About  this  time  my  companion  began 
to  nestle  about  and  thereby  to  derange  the  covering.  I  be 
sought  him  to  keep  still,  but  he  exclaimed,  "I  am  in  a  hollow, 
and  a  stream  of  water  is  running  under  me.  Can't  you  move 
along?"  To  do  this  would  simply  put  me  in  a  similar  predic 
ament,  and  so  I  declined.  Misery  loves  company;  keep  still  he 
wouldn't,  and  he  continued  to  pull  and  haul  till  in  sheer  des 
peration  I  sprang  up,  taking  the  covers  with  me,  and  in  a  very 
short  time  was  as  wet  as  the  rest,  which  means  that  I  was 


328  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

as  wet  as  I  could  be.  I  then  crowded  with  others  about  the 
fire,  imagining  that  in  our  discomfort  we  were  not  unlike  the 
pictures  that  I  had  seen  of  Napoleon  at  the  burning  of  Moscow, 
our  unhappy  groups  about  the  fire  suggesting  that  cheerless 
scene.  Why,  some  of  our  men  slopped  around  that  night  till 
they  passed  the  weary  and  saturated  guard  and  so  escaped, 
while  one  or  two  fellows  became  the  butt  of  ridicule  among 
their  associates,  for,  wandering  outside,  they  tried  to  come 
into  camp  again,  but  were  hailed  by  the  vigilant  guard,  who 
let  them  in  only  after  hearing  their  piteous  plea,  "We're  prison 
ers."  Was  there  ever  before  such  honesty? 

The  morning  brought  sunshine  and  in  its  drying  rays  we 
forgot  the  misery  of  the  night.  It  was  here  that  I  found  the 
first  Confederate  who  did  not  use  tobacco.  Just  outside  the 
line  he  stood  and  proffered  the  weed  for  whatever  the  prisoners 
had  to  barter,  and  however  poor  we  were  it  seemed  as  though 
there  never  was  a  time  when  somebody  could  not  find  some 
thing  to  trade  off  for  this  narcotic  consolation.  I  expressed 
my  astonishment  at  his  not  using  tobacco,  and  he  admitted 
that  there  was  reason  for  my  wonder.  He  said  he  always  drew 
his  rations  of  the  article  and  then  made  the  most  possible  from 
them  by  trading  and  selling.  I  didn't  particularly  care  to  flatter 
him,  but  I  remember  thinking  him  the  best-looking  "Confed." 
whom  I  had  seen. 

After  a  while  we  march  out  and  are  off  for  our  last  tramp  be 
fore  going  aboard  the  cars.  Of  Staunton  we  get  very  little  notion 
save  the  name.  The  train,  such  as  it  is,  is  soon  in  readiness 
for  us  and  we  are  loaded  into  stock  cars.  So,  in  spite  of  our 
selves,  in  one  respect,  at  least,  we  go  counter  to  Longfellow's 
advice,  for  we  are — 

"Like  dumb,  driven  cattle." 

However,  after  our  200  miles'  walk,  we  were  not  fastidious  as 
to  modes  of  conveyance,  and  the  most  of  us  gave  ourselves  to 
sleep  at  once.  During  the  trip  we  pass  under  the  Blue  Eidge 
by  means  of  a  tunnel  nearly  a  mile  in  length.  Just  as  our  car 
emerges  an  axle  breaks,  and  a  long  delay  follows,  improved 
by  many  in  picking  blackberries,  whose  vines,  of  the  running 
variety,  cover  the  ground  about  the  track.  Cups,  and  pails 
even,  are  brought  into  use,  and  our  last  dish  of  fruit  for  the 
season  is  had.  Of  course  we  have  only  a  general  notion  of  our 
direction,  knowing  that  our  trend  is  southward. 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  329 

Late  in  the  afternoon  we  pass  a  peculiar,  wide-reaching  build 
ing,  which  from  its  pictures  I  recognize  as  the  University  of 
Virginia,  and  I  know  that  we  must  be  in  Charlottesville.  Afar 
on  a  hill-top  we  can  make  out  the  home  of  Thomas  Jefferson, 
known  in  history  as  Monticello.  I  think  how  little  the  great 
Virginian  recks  of  the  turmoils  into  which  his  country  has 
fallen.  Within  sight  of  Jefferson's  "Pet,"  the  university,  and 
almost  under  the  shadow  of  his  home,  I  sleep  the  sleep  of  the 
just,  lying  upon  a  chip-pile  hard  by  the  railroad  track.  In  the 
morning  we  resume  our  journey  again  by  rail,  and  soon  are  go 
ing  towards  the  south.  This  day's  ride  ends  with  our  arrival 
at  Lynchburg.  The  James  river,  wide  and  shallow,  goes  tum 
bling  along  over  its  rocky  bottom,  quite  different  from  the 
deep  and  muddy  stream  with  whose  lower  waters  we  are  fa 
miliar.  We  debark  and  march  up  seemingly  endless  hills.  We 
go  a  long  way  to  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  and  finally  find  rest 
in  a  large  tobacco  warehouse,  owned  then,  I  have  learned,  by 
Mr.  Charles  Massie,  a  man  who  lost  everything  in  the  war. 
It  was  and  is  on  the  corner  of  Twelfth  and  Polk  streets.  Along 
the  way  I  note  the  omnipresence  of  the  tobacco  trade.  In  some 
places  is  seems  to  be  the  chief  industry,  while  man  and  boy  ap 
parently  are  doing  their  best  to  make  way  with  as  much  as 
possible  of  the  weed.  For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  see  small 
boys,  scarcely  out  of  pinafores,  smoking  with  all  the  composure 
of  old  stagers. 

In  this  building  we  remain  two  nights  and  one  day.  Here 
I  received  the  only  blow  ever  given  me  by  a  foe,  and  in  this  way : 
In  the  night  I  arose  and  started  for  the  door.  "Go  back,"  says 
the  guard,  and  he  follows  the  command  by  a  smart  rap  over 
my  head  with  his  bayonet.  I  had  not  noticed  a  line  of  men  in 
waiting,  behind  which  I  should  have  placed  myself,  only  a 
small  number  being  allowed  out  at  a  time.  Hastily  retreating, 
I  muttered  imprecations  that  were  not  at  all  pleasing  to  his  rebel 
highness,  and  he  suggested  shooting  unless  I  subsided.  I  think 
my  remarks  were  in  some  way  to  the  effect  that  nothing  would 
give  me  greater  pleasure  than  to  encounter  him  in  some  retired 
spot  where  the  chances  were  more  nearly  equal.  However, 
my  feelings,  more  than  my  head,  were  injured,  and  they  event 
ually  recovered  their  accustomed  serenity. 

On  the  second  morning  we  were  again  loaded  upon  the  cars, 
and  are  once  more  nearing  our  final  destination.  Now  a  road 


330  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

reaches  down  directly  south  from  Lynchburg,  but  then  we  had 
to  take  an  almost  easterly  course,  going  through  a  country 
which  in  less  than  a  year  was  to  be  in  everybody's  mouth  as 
the  scene  of  the  collapse  of  the  Rebellion,  Lee's  surrender  and 
the  climax  of  Grant's  career.  We  may  have  stopped  at  Appo- 
mattox,  but  I  do  not  remember  it.  We  certainly  halted  at 
Farmville,  but  so  slow  is  our  course  in  our  rattle-box  cars,  and 
over  a  road  that  has  long  been  a  stranger  to  repairs,  that  it  is 
fully  night  before  we  reach  Burksville.  Whether  our  destina 
tion  was  Richmond  or  the  extreme  South,  we  had  no  means  of 
knowing,  but  when  the  train,  after  much  switching,  changes 
its  direction,  we  know  that  we  are  to  be  strangers  to  Belle  Isle 
and  Libby,  and  so  resign  ourselves  to  prospects  of  Salisbury 
and  Andersonville. 

But  we  are  to  be  happily  disappointed.  With  the  first  streak- 
ings  of  day,  on  July  29th,  '64,  we  stop  at  a  village  which  we 
are  told  is  Danville,  and  we  learn  that  it  is  the  largest  place 
in  Pittsylvania  county,  Virginia.  Later  we  are  marched 
through  the  streets  of  what  might  be  even  to  us,  were  we  not 
prisoners,  a  beautiful  place.  The  flowers  looked  fresh  and 
blooming  as  we  filed  along.  They  were  the  last  that  I  was  to 
see  that  season,  the  very  last  that  many  of  my  friends  ever 
saw.  Feeling  much  as  I  have  thought  the  caged  animals  in  a 
caravan  procession  feel  as  they  return  the  curious  glances  of 
idling  throngs,  we  wended  our  way  through  the  town,  objects 
of  much  interest  to  the  natives,  who  rushed  from  breakfast- 
getting  or  eating  to  look  at  the  first  arrival  of  the  live  "Yanks" 
who  had  come  so  many  hundred  strong  to  make  Danville  their 
involuntary  home.  Along  the  principal  streets  we  go,  till  we 
file  to  the  right  and  come  upon  an  open  square  or  plaza  having 
large  brick  warehouses  on  three  sides.  Into  the  first  of  these, 
called  No.  1,  lying  between  the  square  and  the  Dan  river,  we 
are  led  or  driven.  As  I  await  my  turn  to  enter  I  have  time  to 
note  the  river,  the  cook-house  near,  and  the  building  itself,  three 
stories  high  with  an  attic,  into  which  as  many  men  are  crowded 
as  it  can  possibly  hold.  We  realize  that  we  have  escaped  some 
thing  in  not  going  to  the  stockades,  but  what  misery  might  be 
yet  within  those  walls,  the  future  had  not  revealed.  In  single 
file  we  pass  in,  carefully  numbered,  and  are  forced  along,  filling 
the  upper  places  first,  till  the  old  warehouse  seems  crowded 
to  suffocation.  Only  the  enlisted  men  enter  here.  The  officers 


PRISONERS  OF  WAR.  331 

are  consigned  to  another  building.  The  last  man  passes  in. 
The  door  is  shut,  locked  and  barred.  Men  with  guns  guard 
the  places  of  egress  even  then,  and,  as  never  before,  we  realize 
that  we  are  in  Prison. 

IN  A  REBEL  PRISON;   OR,  EXPERIENCES  IN   DANVILLE,   VA. 

"When  I  was  in  prison!"  How  many  people  I  have  seen 
shrink  away  from  me  on  my  uttering  this  expression;  but  the 
appendix  "rebel  prison"  invariably  draws  from  them  the  words, 
"What!  were  you  in  a  rebel  prison?  In  what  prison,  and  how 
long?  How  did  they  use  you?" 

From  intense  aversion,  the  expression  has  changed  to  one 
of  the  utmost  interest,  and  there  are  indications  of  awakening 
sympathy  when  I  reply,  "Yes,  in  Danville,  Va.  Between  seven 
and  eight  months,  and  as  well  as  they  could;  but  their  best 
was  bad  enough."  The  men,  captured  at  Monocacy,  Md.,  by  foot 
and  rail,  have  finally  reached  the  most  considerable  place  in 
southern  Virginia,  and  on  the  morn  of  July  29th,  1864,  the 
heavy  prison  door  opens  and  shuts  upon  our  party.  I  have 
always  rated  the  total  number  entering  the  building  at  about 
600.  Of  these  prisoners,  106  were  members  of  my  regiment. 

On  the  19th  of  the  following  February,  when  we  parted  from 
our  prison  house,  I  was  one  of  forty-five  "Ninth"  men  who  joy 
fully  set  their  faces  northward.  It  does  not  follow  that  the 
difference  in  numbers  represented  deaths  in  Danville,  for  there 
had  been  two  exchanges  of  sick;  but  more  than  one-quarter 
of  our  "boys"  were  left  in  Virginian  graves.  Just  twenty- 
seven  out  of  our  106  succumbed  to  prison  hardships,  and  in 
dying  found  their  release.  Of  those  sent  northward  in  August 
and  October,  many  were  stopped  at  Richmond,,  and  in  "Libby," 
or  on  Belle  Isle,  found  the  fate  escaped  in  Danville.  Others, 
reaching  the  Federal  lines,  barely  had  strength  to  greet  their 
friends,  and  then  they,  too,  ceased  from  earth.  It  is  a  very 
moderate  estimate  to  claim  that  fully  one-half  our  number  fell 
victims,  in  less  than  a  year,  to  the  results  of  our  imprisonment. 
Then,  too,  any  prisoner  who  had  passed  beyond  the  period  of 
boyhood  never  fully  recovered  from  his  months  of  hunger, 
cold  and  anxiety.  When,  at  the  end  of  the  following  April, 
I  rejoined  my  regiment  and  a  comrade  undertook  to  tell  me 
how  much  I  had  escaped  through  my  capture,  I  quite  silenced 


332  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

him  by  asking  if  any  company  had  lost  more  than  half  its 
men  during  my  absence;  if  the  Valley  campaign,  hard  though 
it  was,  had  resulted  in  the  death  of  one-quarter  of  the  mem 
bers  of  the  regiment.  In  the  National  cemetery  at  Winchester, 
thirty-eight  comrades  from  the  Ninth  are  sleeping;  but  they  are 
the  dead  from  Opequon  and  Cedar  Creek,  with  those  who  died 
from  disease  during  the  fall.  I  make  this  comparison  solely 
to  show  the  extreme  mortality  among  men  in  a  condition  of 
unnatural  confinement  with  scant  sustenance. 

As  to  our  location,  we  were  in  a  brick  building,  erected  some 
years  before  for  tobacco  manufacturing  purposes,  but  which 
had  been  pressed  into  the  service  of  the  Confederate  govern 
ment  for  prison  use;  and  I  have  since  been  informed  by  the 
owner  he  never  got  a  cent  for  it.  In  the  list  of  prison-houses 
in  Danville,  it  is  No.  1.  Just  back  of  us,  on  the  bank  of  a 
mill-race,  is  the  cook-house,  where  Yankee  workmen  mix  up 
and  bake  strange  combinations,  called  corn-bread.  My  mother 
still  preserves  some  of  this  bread  as  a  Rebellion  relic  after 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century.  I  think  it  is  as  good  now 
as  it  ever  was.  A  small  piece,  shown  by  me  on  the  Northern 
Central  Railroad  of  Pennsylvania,  on  my  way  home,  having 
a  furlough,  was  provocative  of  great  profanity;  one  man  in 
particular  wondering  if  any  blanked  blanked  government  ex 
pected  God  to  help  it  when  it  gave  such  blanked  stuff  as  that 
to  white  men.  I  think  my  returning  the  obnoxious  article  to  my 
haversack  and  thereby  ridding  him  of  the  sight,  alone  saved  him 
from  an  apoplectic  fit.  Across  the  mill-race  and  between  that 
and  the  river  Dan  was  the  foundry  of  Mr.  Holland,  where  many 
weak-kneed  and  empty-stomached  prisoners  worked  for  a  trifle 
more  than  what  they  could  get  to  eat.  Further  along  rolled 
the  river  itself,  a  stream  notable  in  history  as  that  whose  upper 
waters  had  stayed  the  course  of  Cornwallis  when  pursuing 
Greene,  and  which,  before  it  reached  the  sea,  was  broadened 
into  the  Roanoke.  Here  it  is  wide  but  shallow,  and  its  waters, 
clear  or  muddy,  according  to  the  season,  are  to  furnish  us 
liquid  for  drinking.  Beyond  it,  the  land  rises  into  a  high  hill, 
topped  towards  the  west  with  trees,  but  immediately  opposite, 
open,  and  betraying,  wherever  the  surface  is  broken,  the  pecul 
iar  red  earth  characteristic  of  Virginia  and  North  Carolina, 
for  fully  200  miles  from  north  to  south.  It  is  surmounted  by 
a  substantial  brick  mansion,  that  of  the  famous  Claiborne  fam 


PRISONERS  OF  WAR.  333 

ily,  and  the  view  rests  the  eye  that  looks  out  from  a  room 
crowded  with  woe  and  wretchedness.  Save  this  building  and 
a  few  structures  along  the  river's  edge,  there  is  nothing  to  note 
towards  the  north. 

When  we  can  get  a  squint  from  the  west  windows  without  the 
sight  of  the  vigilant  guard,  we  may  see  a  large  wooden  edifice 
known  by  us  as  No.  2.  Here  are  the  Confederate  prison  head 
quarters,  and  here,  too,  are  the  few  men  detailed  from  the 
prisoners  to  do  various  things  for  us.  For  instance,  Negus,  of 
Company  B,  makes  splint  brooms  to  be  used  in  sweeping  the 
prison  floors,  and  Andrew  Hall,  of  Company  A,  finds  plenty 
to  do  in  painting  the  names  of  the  dead  upon  the  head-boards 
provided  by  the  rebels.  These  men  convey  to  their  friends 
many  articles  of  food  that  serve  to  mitigate  the  horrors  of  the 
place.  A  passage-way  separates  Nos.  1  and  2.  Going  along  to 
the  south,  on  the  corner  of  Main  street,  is  No.  3.  This  is  the 
place  where  the  officers  are  quartered,  save  upon  the  upper 
floor,  where  are  the  colored  prisoners  taken  at  the  mine  ex 
plosion.  It  was  said  that  these  negroes  were  placed  here  as 
an  especial  affront  to  the  officers,  the  Confederates  thinking 
to  thus  heap  indignity  upon  the  Federals  on  account  of  our 
employment  of  black  soldiers.  However,  I  never  heard  that 
any  one  felt  particularly  troubled  over  their  presence. 

Turning  to  the  east  we  encounter  No.  4,  just  facing  our  No. 
1.  So  here  we  have  these  four  buildings  on  the  three  sides  of 
a  square,  making  a  convenient  place  for  the  guards  to  parade 
and  occasionally  to  drill  a  little.  Here,  too,  they  sometimes 
punished  those  of  their  soldiers  who  had  tarried  too  long 
with  the  seductive  apple-jack,  and  a  "Johnny"  on  a  barrel, 
or  in  it,  was  not  an  uncommon  sight.  In  other  portions  of  the 
city  were  prisons  Nos.  5  and  6,  and  also  the  hospital. 

No.  1  is  three  stories  high  with  an  attic.  Our  entrance  is 
made  into  an  entry  which  runs  the  width  of  the  building  on 
the  west  end.  It  may  be  eight  feet  wide.  Opposite  the  out 
side  door  is  a  flight  of  stairs  leading  upward.  In  this  entry, 
a  guard  with  a  gun  keeps  constant  watch.  Midway  its  length 
is  a  doorway  leading  into  the  first  floor.  Here  are  placed  the 
wounded  men  who  have  been  brought  with  us,  and  those  who 
soon  may  have  to  go  to  the  hospital.  Here,  too,  the  prisoners 
lay  their  dead,  who  die  before  they  can  be  taken  to  the  latter 
place,  and  we  learn  to  hasten  down  in  the  morn  to  see  if  any  of 


334  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

the  newly  placed  dead  are  friends  of  ours.  In  this  room,  also, 
a  guard  is  stationed.  At  the  east  end  of  the  building  a  door 
opens  into  the  yard,  an  enclosure  having  a  length  of  possibly 
100  feet,  and  a  width  of  twenty.  At  any  rate,  its  length  is 
the  combined  width  of  the  prison  and  the  cook-house,  with  the 
narrow  passage  between.  In  the  northeast  corner  is  a  sink, 
and  about  this  yard  another  guard  constantly  walks.  In  it 
only  a  small  number  of  men  are  allowed  at  night,  and  in  the 
daytime  any  disposition  to  unduly  crowd  it  is  resented  by  the 
guard,  and  "you  Yanks"  have  to  make  tracks  for  the  interior. 
On  one  side  is  a  large  trough,  said  to  have  been  filled  with 
clean  water  once;  but  this  must  have  been  before  our  day.  I 
early  convinced  myself  that  I  was  cleaner  by  keeping  my  hands 
out  of  its  contents  than  I  was  by  using  them.  Yet  I  remember 
one  man,  a  foreigner,  who  had  the  hydropathic  craze,  at  least 
I  thought  he  had,  who,  every  morning,  immersed  himself 
therein,  having,  in  December,  frequently  to  break  the  ice  to 
get  at  the  mud.  I  don't  know  that  it  was  bathing  that  killed 
him,  but  I  do  know  that  he  died.  Over  against  the  building 
we  are  permitted  to  make  small  fires  of  little  sticks  of  kindling, 
bought  from  the  guards,  and  by  this  means  we  sometimes 
make  crust  coffee  and  cook  such  delicacies  as  beef's  eyes  and 
lights.  Sometimes  a  rat  is  caught,  and  those  initiated  claim 
that  he  made  excellent  soup.  I  don't  know.  Through  the 
cracks  in  the  fence,  looking  out  into  the  passage  between  the 
prison  and  cook-house,  such  converse  as  we  have  with  friends 
outside  may  be  had.  Perhaps  our  friend  has  made  us  a  cake 
of  sifted  meal,  with  a  fair  amount  of  salt  in  it,  with  just  the 
least  suspicion  of  grease  added.  If  so,  he  will  watch  his 
chance  and  toss  it  over  the  ten-foot  fence,  or,  perchance,  he 
may  secure  the  privilege  of  entering  the  building  on  some  pre 
text,  when  his  quondam  tent-mate  and  comrade  will  not  be 
exactly  a  bloated  bondholder,  but  for  a  brief  time  he  will  make 
his  stomach  the  holder  of  a  wonderfully  satisfying  morsel.  In 
the  heated  days  of  summer  and  early  fall  this  yard  is  much 
sought  by  the  men,  and,  walking,  talking,  or  seated  upon  the 
ground,  its  area  is  pretty  well  occupied.  Here  it  is  that  one 

day  I  find  Alonzo  F ,  of  Company  H,  lying  with  closed  eyes, 

his  face  and  hands  covered  with  flies.  "Why  don't  you  brush 
off  the  flies?"  I  say  to  him,  fairly  quivering  myself  over  the 
sight.  "Oh!  what's  the  use!  They'll  come  again,"  is  the  drawled 


PRISONERS  OF  WAR.  335 

out  response.  Such  a  want  of  ambition  could  not  long  survive, 
and  very  soon  the  sod  closing  over  him  shut  out  his  tormentors. 

Let  us  now  go  up-stairs.  It  is  possible  that  under  them  we 
may  find  a  pious  Catholic  telling  his  beads  and  zealously  say 
ing  his  prayers,  continuing  his  devotions  in  the  face  of  constant 
chaffing,  for  the  prisoners  are  not  over-religious.  Poor  fellow! 
His  prayers  did  not  avail  so  far  as  release  from  thraldom  was 
concerned.  His  oratory  was,  ere  long,  vacant,  and  its  occupant 
went  before  Him  to  whom  his  orisons  had  so  long  ascended. 
Up  the  dark  stairway  we  climb  and  come  upon  the  second  floor. 
It  covers  the  entire  space,  with  no  break  save  sustaining  posts. 
Here,  with  others,  the  fifty-three  members  of  the  106th  New 
York  stay,  and  one  of  their  men,  Sergeant  Pritchard,  is  a  sort 
of  director  for  the  whole  building.  He  is  a  good,  fair  man,  and 
every  prisoner  recalls  him  with  pleasure.  About  200  men  are 
quartered  in  this  story.  Another  flight  of  stairs  takes  us  to 
the  third  floor,  where  the  most  of  the  men  of  the  "Ninth"  lie. 
Again  there  is  an  unbroken  view  of  the  entire  room,  and  under 
the  second  window  from  the  west  on  the  south  side  I  throw 
down  my  baggage  and  with  my  comrades  rest.  Between  me  and 
the  stairs  leading  to  the  attic  are  half  a  dozen  men,  mostly  from 
the  Ninth,  though  my  immediate  neighbor  is  George  Turner, 
from  a  New  York  cavalry  regiment.  Should  we  care  to  climb 
the  remaining  flight,  we  shall  find,  just  under  the  roof,  a  poor 
ly  lighted  and  exceedingly  warm  place,  crowded  with  human 
ity.  In  winter  it  is  correspondingly  cold. 

It  does  not  take  us  a  great  while  to  recover  from  the  fatigue 
incident  to  our  long  journey.  Then  begins  a  protracted  hunger, 
to  last  till  we  see  our  own  lines  again.  During  the  months 
of  August  and  September  we  are  given  corn-bread  and  occa 
sionally  a  soup  made  of  refuse  bits  of  bacon,  sometimes  of  fresh 
meat — including  lights  or  lungs.  The  bacon  is  rancid,  and  the 
vegetables  in  it  are  not  very  inviting,  consisting  of  stray  cab 
bage  leaves  and  a  leguminous  article  known  by  us  as  "cow-pea." 
The  well-worn  statement  that  every  pea  has  a  worm  in  it  had 
no  exception  here.  In  fact  we  thought  it  had  a  double  verifi 
cation,  but  poor  as  this  soup  was  there  came  a  time  when  we 
would  have  joyously  hailed  its  advent.  The  bread,  mentioned 
before,  was  composed  of  corn  and  cob  ground  together,  and 
was  baked  in  large  tins — the  whole  upper  surface  being  marked 
off  into  rectangles,  so  that  when  carried  to  the  floor  for  dis- 


336  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

tribution,  by  a  knife  in  the  hands  of  the  designated  party,  it 
is  cut  into  parallelepipeds  of  about  two-thirds  the  size  of  an 
ordinary  brick.  To  each  man  one  of  these  is  given,  and  on  it 
he  may  sustain  nature  till  the  next  morning.  If  he  tries  to  save 
any  of  it  for  a  meal,  later  in  the  day,  unless  he  puts  it  into  his 
pocket,  the  chances  are  that  it  will  be  stolen,  so  really  the  safest 
plan  for  him  is  to  eat  it  at  once  and  then  solace  himself  on 
recollection  and  expectation  till  the  next  meal. 

From  one  day  let  us  learn  all.  It  is,  we  will  surmise,  the 
middle  of  September.  Morning  comes  early  to  those  who  have 
no  evenings,  and  the  first  streakings  of  dawn  have  brought 
us  from  our  recumbent  positions.  Conversation  begins.  We 
go  over  the  old  story  of  possible  exchange,  and  perhaps  wonder 
what  the  folks  at  home  are  doing.  At  the  worse  we  know  that 
we  are  twenty-four  hours  nearer  release  than  we  were  the  day 
before.  The  day  advances;  but  eating  is  yet  a  long  way  off. 
Anon,  men  begin  to  take  off  garment  after  garment  and  submit 
it  to  very  close  scrutiny.  What  are  they  after?  Why  is  it 
that  nearly  all,  as  they  talk,  keep  up  a  constant  motion,  slap 
ping  now  one  part  of  the  person  and  now  another?  Now  a 
hand  is  thrust  up  a  sleeve  and  something  is  found  that  affords 
the  finder  a  deal  of  satisfaction.  Then  a  quick  grab  is  made 
for  something  upon  the  neck  and  more  satisfaction.  Never  let 
ting  the  talk  halt  for  a  moment,  one  may  turn  down  his  stock 
ing  or  turn  up  his  trousers  leg,  and  grim  determination  marks 
his  movements  as  he  applies  his  two  thumb-nails  and  by  a  sort 
of  quartz-crushing  motion  produces  an  easily  recognized  crack 
ing  sound.  The  individual  who  is  going  through  his  garment 
regularly  and  carefully,  in  army  parlance,  is  "skirmishing.'' 
It  is  the  Pediculus  (humanus)  corporis  that  is  occasioning  all  this 
activity.  This  parasite  is  an  invariable  accompaniment  in 
army  life;  but  in  prison  he  reaches  his  highest  pinnacle  of  im 
portance.  The  Carelessness  of  some  makes  the  careful  suffer, 
and  to  be  entirely  free  from  him  is  impossible.  Occasionally, 
indignation  causes  the  men  to  take  extreme  measures  with  the 

offender,  and  I  remember  that  C d's  blouse  was  taken  from 

him  and  thrown  into  the  sink.  A  finger  could  not  be  laid  on 
it  and  not  touch  some  living,  moving  object.  The  owner  did 
not  long  survive  the  loss  of  his  garment.  The  man  who  did 
not  care  for  himself  was  doomed.  The  fecundity  of  the  insect 
was  marvelous,  and,  if  later  in  the  season,  the  cold  prevented 


PRISONERS  OF  WAR.  337 

a  search  for  two  or  three  days,  one's  condition  became  nearly 
unendurable.  Certain  boys  anxious  to  know  the  time  necessary 
for  incubation  experimented  and  ascertained;  but  unfortunate 
ly  for  the  interests  of  science  I  was  too  hungry  to  make  notes 
and  the  results  have  escaped  me. 

The  first  duty  of  the  morning  is  roll-call — not  that  any  one 
cares  for  our  names,  or  ever  calls  them,  but  we  give  this  appel 
lation  to  the  act  of  falling  into  line  and  being  counted  by  a 
rebel  functionary,  who  comes  in  every  morning.  We  are  or 
dered  into  place  by  one  of  our  own  number  that  we  may  be 
ready  for  the  officer,  who  simply  counts  our  squad,  that  he  may 
account  for  all.  It  is  easy  to  deceive  him,  and  in  the  only  in 
stance  of  escape  from  our  prison,  men  were  lifted  up  through 
the  floor  at  the  east  end  to  make  good  the  places  of  those  who 
had  taken  French  leave.  They  had  already  been  counted  be 
low,  and,  though  the  squads  were  numbered  rapidly,  they  had 
time  to  get  up,  and  to  fall  in,  thus  covering  the  departure  of 
the  escaped.  It  took  a  long  time  and  much  searching  before 
the  deceit  was  discovered.  Several  times  when  thus  drawn 
up,  we  were  searched  for  valuables,  the  rebels,  somehow  or 
other,  thinking  that  the  Yanks  had  many  greenbacks  about 
them.  Strange  places  of  concealment  were  had.  One  man  put 
his  money  well  down  in  his  bushy  head  of  hair.  Another  had 

sewed  his  into  the  binding  of  his  pantaloons,  and  "Old  P s" 

(any  man  above  forty  was  "old"  to  his  fellows)  kept  his  in 
his  mouth.  Knowing  this,  I  said  to  him:  "Where  did  you  put 
your  money  when  the  rebs  searched  us?"  In  a  tone  several 
degrees  softer  than  butter,  the  old  fellow  replied:  "Money, 
money — I  have  no  money."  "Why,  yes  you  have,  too!  What's 
the  use  of  lying  about  it?  You  know  you  had  it  back  in  that 
mouth  of  yours!"  Now  he  lays  his  hand  upon  my  arm  and 
gently  beseeches  me  to  talk  a  little  lower,  lest  the  guard  might 
hear  me! 

Roll-call  over,  we  may  hug  ourselves  till  meal-time,  trying 
thus  to  pinch  our  stomachs  into  a  cessation  from  craving.  It 
is,  however,  always  in  vain — and  when  at  9.30  or  10  o'clock 
A.  M.  we  hear  the  entrance  of  the  bread  bringers  we  are  in  a 
condition  seemingly  bordering  on  starvation.  The  slab  be 
longing  to  our  squad  is  slammed  down  upon  the  floor.  The 
table  has  no  cloth,  there  are  no  knives  and  forks,  no  napkins 
and  no  grace.  Very  speedily  the  dinner  is  made,  and  with 
22 


338  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

wolfish  eagerness  we  devour  the  portion  allotted  to  us.     The 
crumbs    resulting  from  the  cutting  are  scraped  up  with  the 
utmost  care,  and  I  have  seen  men  fight  for  them  till  they  were 
too  weak  to  continue  the  contest  longer.    Two  men  who  thus 
fought,  one  from  the  151st  New  York,  the  other  a  Jerseyman, 
and  who  in  their  snarling  fierceness  reminded  rue  of  starving 
dogs,  were   in  a  few  brief  weeks  sleeping  quietly  enough  side 
by  side  in  the  burial-ground.    With  us  it  was  not  auri  sacra 
fames:  but  rather  food,  food,  food.    Hunger  being  the  best  of 
sauces,  the  bread,  coarse  though  it  was,  was  very  sweet  to  our 
palates,  and  unless  the  system  rebelled,  as  it  did  in  some  cases, 
life  could  be  maintained  upon  it,  at  least  for  a  time.     Occa 
sionally  our  hosts'  supply  of  salt  seemed  to  be  very  short, 
whereupon  the  bread  was  quite  tasteless,  and  then  one  of  the 
chief  objects  of  traffic  among  us  was  the  same  saline  matter. 
Breakfast,  dinner,  or  whatever  the  meal  may  be  called,  being 
over,  we  have  absolutely  nothing  to  do.    We  may,  if  we  like, 
study  our  fellow  captives,  and  what  a  set  they  are.    Here  are 
men  who  first  saw  the  light  in  almost  every  state  of  Europe. 
Wandering  westward,  they  have  been  tumbled  into  the  seeth 
ing  cauldron,  called  America,  and,  presto,  they  are  transformed 
into  Yankees.     The  day  is  very  hot,  and  clothing  is  voted  a 
nuisance.    Item  after  item  is  cast  aside,  till  nothing  is  retained 
save  what  decency  requires,  and  decency,  it  will  be  remem 
bered,  is  a  relative  term.    Here  comes  a  stalwart  Yankee  who 
first  saw  the  light  in  Green  Erin.     His  brogue  is  delightful, 
and  he  can  tell  you  of  many  adventures  when,  a  sailor  bold,  he 
ploughed  the  seas  beneath  the  English  flag.    Upon  his  breast 
is  the  indelible  figure  of  a  vessel  under  full  sail.    In  red  and 
blue  the  picture  is  a  tribute  to  the  fortitude  that  enabled  him 
to  withstand  the  torture  from  the  many  thousand  needle  stings 
that  worked  those  colors  in.     His  brawny  arms  bear  figures 
of  dancing  girls,  and  he  is  to  us  almost  as  good  as  a  panorama. 
Here  is  a  tall,  finely-formed  Yankee,  whose  voice  betrays  his 
English  birth.    What  is  the  history  of  the  letter  D,  so  deeply 
stamped  into  his  left  breast?     Many  times  my  tongue  was 
on  the  point  of  asking,  but  I  forbore,  fearing  I  might  learn 
that  it  stood  for  "deserter,"  and  I  didn't  want  to  think  of  him 
in  that  light.    But  Hawthorne's  "Scarlet  Letter"  was  not  more 
conspicuous  than  this  terrible  blue  D,  which  could  be  readily 
seen  across  the  room.     The  anatomist  and  physiologist  may 


PRISONERS  OF  WAR.  339 

here  study  the  human  form  once  divine,,  but  under  the  pinching 
prison  regimen  fast  becoming  anything  but  beautiful. 

From  this  cursory  glance  let  us  walk  about  our  prison,  being 
careful  not  to  go  too  near  the  windows  lest  some  vigilant 
guard,,  anxious  to  show  his  zeal,  shoot  at  us.  I  say  "shoot 
at,"  for  the  failure  to  hit  many  of  us  was  apparently  through 
no  lack  of  intention  on  their  part,  but  was  the  direct  result 
of  poor  marksmanship.  On  the  west  side  we  may  stop  at  the 
workshop  of  a  Teutonic  Yankee  named  Clippard,  and  him  we 
shall  find  diligently  engaged  in  making  chess-men,  orders  for 
which  he  has  from  the  guards  far  beyond  his  ability  to  fill,  let 
him  labor  never  so  faithfully.  He  works  these  exquisite  figures 
out  of  bone  by  means  of  simple  tools  in  the  main  provided  by 
himself.  I  wonder  if  he  be  not  allied  to  those  Swiss  who  for 
so  many  generations  have  excelled  in  toy  making?  His  pay  is 
in  Confederate  money;  but  by  it  he  is  enabled  to  supply  many 
a  luxury  for  himself  and  for  his  associates. 

As  we  reach  the  north  side  and  glance  at  the  beautiful  river, 
and  the  waving  trees  beyond,  our  attention  is  drawn  to  a  sad 
sight  at  our  feet.  Here  bucked  and  gagged  is  a  prisoner — 
and  what  is  his  offense?  None  that  he  is  conscious  of.  His 
reason  has  fled,  and,  alternately  praying  and  imprecating,  he 
is  fast  wearing  away.  I  shudder  now  as  I  recall  the  fervor  of 
that  prayer  calling  on  God  for  help,  and  anon,  with  fierce 
curses,  damning  every  object  that  recurred  to  his  "heat  op 
pressed  brain."  Just  a  few  days  more  and  he,  from  earthly 
sorrows  free,  will  be  lying  beneath  the  soil.  He  is  a  Company 
C  man  of  my  regiment,  and  was  too  old  for  military  service 
when  he  enlisted.  Here  lies  a  cavalryman  from  Oswego,  N.  Y., 
who  avers  that  he  would  give  a  month's  wages  for  a  pint  of  gin 
and  an  equal  amount  for  a  pouch  full  of  tobacco.  But  he  gets 
neither,  for  he  hasn't  his  wages  by  him.  Just  beyond,  at  that 
northeast  window,  sits  an  industrious  man.  His  name  is  Reed, 
and  he  comes  from  that  grand  Green  Mountain  State,  a  member 
of  the  10th  Regiment.  He  was  never  a  large  man,  and  prison 
life  surely  is  not  conducive  to  growth.  Day  after  day  he  has 
toiled  by  that  window.  Bone  ornaments  of  remarkable  beauty 
come  from  his  deft  touch,  and  Confederate  money  in  abundance 
comes  into  his  possession.  He,  too,  is  far  behind  his  orders. 
The  young  rebel  guards  have  commissioned  him  to  make  sleeve- 
buttons  and  collar-pins  for  their  lady  loves,  while  charms  and 


340  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

pendants  innumerable  are  fashioned  by  him.  But  with  the  ad 
vance  of  time,  his  cheeks  pale,  and  his  step  grows  unsteady. 
Finally,  weak  and  poor,  he  is  taken  to  the  hospital,  where  I 
lose  track  of  him. 

'Ah!  what  have  we  here!  A  party  of  men  are  hilarious  about 
something.  In  the  centre  of  the  group  are  four  men  playing 
poker.  They  have  the  only  pack  of  cards  in  the  prison.  Soiled 
hands  have  used  them  till  they  are  in  truth  of  mother  earth, 
and  from  the  usual  rectangular  form  they  have  been  worn  to 
a  uniform  oval.  The  pack  belongs  to  boys  on  the  lower  floor, 
and  these  men  are  using  them  through  having  given  to  the 
possessors  some  part  of  their  rations  of  bread.  Every  looker-on 
is  getting  enjoyment  from  the  game,  watching  most  intently 
its  progress.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  the  jack-pot  is  not  very 
full. 

A  man  reading!  Surely,  there  are  no  books  here!  Yes,  just 
three — one  volume  of  the  Life  of  Charlotte  Bronte,  the  Life 
of  Edward  Payson  and  certain  lectures  of  Lola  Montez.  These 
may  be  hired  of  the  owner  for  a  small  morsel  of  bread.  I  am 
afraid  the  dancer  found  more  readers  than  the  Portland  divine. 

As  we  turn  the  southwest  corner  of  the  floor,  we  may  find 
a  Yankee  soldier,  born  in  France,  who  is  turning  many  an 
honest  penny  in  the  shape  of  extra  bread,  through  his  power  to 
tattoo  the  prisoners  with  India  ink.  He  has  inflicted  no  little 
torture  on  many  a  boy  who  will  carry  the  marks  to  his  grave. 
But  our  Frenchy  has  a  peculiar  habit — one  that  I  would  not 
credit,  till  I  watched  him,  and  actually  saw  him  eat  the  vermin 
caught  upon  his  blanket. 

Leaning  against  the  wall,  as  we  advance,  is  a  party  of  men, 
the  most  prominent  of  whom  is  First  Sergeant  Andrew  Bixby, 
of  Company  H.  An  animated  discussion  is  in  progress,  and  we 
are  greeted  with,  "Well,  I'm  blanked  glad  you  are  here.  We 
have  been  trying  to  decide  how  to  make  a  mince-pie.  Can  you 
tell  us?"  Sundry  watchings  of  mother,  years  before,  now  stand 
me  in  hand,  and  I  am  able  to  satisfy  inquiring  minds  if  not 
hungry  stomachs.  This  is  a  queer  party  before  me.  The  sergeant 
is  one  of  the  best  men  in  the  world,  but  he  will  swear.  There 
is  nothing  north  or  south  that  is  not  an  object  of  his  maledic 
tions,  yet  he  means  nothing  by  it.  It  is  a  silly  habit  he  has, 
but  one,  alas,  that  sticks  to  him,  and  weeks  afterward,  like 
Kobert  Buchanan's  starling,  he  dies  swearing.  Here  is  Jimmy 


PRISONERS  OF  WAR.  341 

Smith,  one  of  the  best-natured  Irishmen  living.  With  what 
a  rich  brogue  would  he  roll  out  the  dulcet  strains  of  "  A  frog, 
he  would  a-wooing  go."  His  "Kamer-Kimer  Keemer-ko,"  for 
delicious  trilling  of  the  r,  was  never  surpassed.  If  there  was 
ever  a  moment  in  his  life  when  he  wasn't  ready  to  laugh  and 
sing,  it  must  have  been  when  I  didn't  see  him.  By  his  side 
is  another  Smith,  an  Englishman,  "  >Arry,"  he  called  himself. 
He  openly  proclaims  that  he  doesn't  care  a  d — n  which  side 
whips.  He  was  a  soldier  in  the  Crimean  War,  and  is  a  soldier 
of  fortune.  He  has  cast  in  his  lot  with  the  North ;  but  he  says 
when  his  term  is  out — he  is  bound  to  serve  that  faithfully — he 
will,  if  possible,  go  into  the  Southern  army,  for  he  wants  to  see 
both  sides.  He  is  a  good  soldier,,  but  repeated  references  to  a 
favorite  potation  of  his  has  secured  from  us  the  name  of  "Old 
'Aff  and  'Aff."  He  hasn't  the  slightest  appreciation  of  humor, 
and  my  statement  that  an  irate  parent  would  name  two  cities 
of  France  to  a  rejected  suitor  for  his  daughter's  hand,  saying 
"U-shant  Havre/'  is  greeted  by  him  with  supreme  disdain,  he 
shouting  that  the  word  is  pronounced  "Us-hant." 

WTe  have  been  around  the  room,  and  be  the  time  long  or 
short,  we  have  nothing  to  do  but  wait  for  night.  As  the  dark 
ness  steals  over  us  we  seek  our  places,  and  on  the  bare  floors 
stretch  ourselves.  In  the  warm  weather,  with  open  win 
dows  and  the  air  gently  blowing  through,  the  temptation  to 
amusement  is  strong,  and  I  have  heard  every  creature  on  the 
earth  imitated  wTith  more  or  less  success.  Before  the  animation 
of  our  former  liberty  had  quite  left  us  there  was  often  singing; 
but  as  the  days  grew  shorter,  the  nights  longer  and  colder, 
there  was  very  little  of  sportive  nature  in  the  hours.  Night 
meant  an  absence  of  sunlight,  and  consequently  more  misery. 
We  lay  as  close  to  each  other  as  possible,  those  within,  of 
course,  warmer  than  those  on  the  outside.  The  end  places  we 
took  in  turns.  When  one  turned  over,  all  must  do  so.  George 
Turner's  body  was  more  sensitive  to  the  touch  of  vermin  than 
any  T  ever  saw.  I  have  known  him  to  leap  up  from  his  place 
and  dance  around  as  some  men  would  if  stung  by  a  bee,  and 
this  he  would  continue  till  the  cause  of  his  affliction  was  found 
and  destroyed.  Of  snoring  we  have  all  sorts  and  sizes,  and  it 
is  no  uncommon  thing  to  have  the  aggressor  jerked  out  of  his 
place  and  his  slumbers  by  those  whom  he  has  disturbed. 

Sometimes  on  the  still  air  are  borne  sounds  that  leave  a  fade- 


342  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

less  impression.  From  the  first  floor  came,  once,  strains  of 
harmony,  so  sweet  that  I  thought  myself  in  heaven,  and  that 
angel  voices  were  making  true  the  fancies  of  my  childhood. 
Only  the  wounded  men,  sweet  singers  they  were,  beguiling 
the  long  tedium  of  night  with  song,  and  it  was  that  delight 
ful  ditty,  "Kitty  Wells,"  that  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  fell 
on  my  ears.  For  several  days  delirium  had  possessed  the  brain 
of  a  young  boy  from  Ohio,  who  was  just  beneath  us.  During 
the  day,  the  hum  of  conversation  drowned  his  voice;  but  when 
sleep  had  pressed  down  nearly  all  the  eyelids,  then  it  was  that 
his  plaintive  tones  came  to  us,  and  how  he  pleaded  for  mother! 
Ineffectual  tears  filled  our  eyes  at  the  sound  of  his  cries;  but 
with  him  we  wandered  amid  the  scenes  of  his  earlier  years, 
and  we  saw  that  mother  leading  him  by  the  hand,  and  we  saw 
her  bidding  her  darling  "Good-bye"  as  he  became  a  soldier, 
and  we  reflected  how  little  that  Ohio  mother  knew  of  the  suffer 
ings  of  her  dying  boy.  His  spirit,  ere  long,  forsook  the  frail 
tenement  and  was  at  rest. 

So  then,  day  and  night,  and  night  and  day,  we  stayed  on. 
Hope  which  springs  eternal  in  the  heart  of  youth  buoyed  us  up. 
Scarcely  a  day  passed  but  there  came  a  rumor  of  an  immediate 
exchange.  There  was  little  variety  save  as  we  watched 
the  diminution  in  our  numbers.  Occasionally,  in  the  dead  of 
the  night,  there  would  arise  a  terrible  commotion  and  cries 
of  "Stop  thief!"  and  "  Kaiders!"  would  be  heard.  Some  pred 
atory  scamps,  knowing  that  certain  ones  had  some  sort  of  valu 
able,  would  steal  upon  the  victim,  and,  by  a  concerted  move 
ment,  would  seize  upon  and  carry  off  the  article.  Before  any 
search  could  be  instituted  the  robbers  would  have  fallen  into 
their  places  among  their  friends,  and  no  loss  was  ever  made 
good.  The  bag  or  receptacle  would  generally  be  found  in  the 
yard  in  the  morning.  At  intervals,  as  the  hours  advanced,  the 
guards  would  cry  the  time  thus:  "Ten  o'clock,  Post  No.  8,  and 
all's  w-e-1-1,"  drawling  this  out  in  a  thinness  of  tone  possible 
only  to  those  whose  speech  generations  of  tobacco  salivation 
has  diluted.  One  night  we  heard  the  guard  in  the  square 
shout,  "Take  your  hand  in,  Yank,  or  I  shoot."  I  must  do  the 
rebel  credit  for  repeating  his  warning,  and  then  came  the  shot, 
followed  by  most  derisive  laughter  from  the  prison.  Some 
one,  to  try  the  fellow,  had  hung  a  cloth  from  the  upper  sash,  and, 


PRISONERS  OF  WAR.  343 

to  the  guard's  eye,  it  looked  like  a  man  swinging  his  arm,  and 
his  orders  were  to  keep  the  men  away  from  the  window. 

The  only  escapes  from  our  prison  were  effected  by  two  men, 
one  a  member  of  the  2d  Massachusetts  Cavalry,  though  he 
was  a  Californian,  who  let  themselves  down  into  the  sink, 
wrenched  off  the  grate  leading  into  the  narrow  sewer,  and,  at 
the  imminent  peril  of  suffocation,  through  indescribable  filth, 
made  their  way  out  to  the  river  and  eventual  liberty.  [One 
of  these  men,  Patrick  Mahan,  now  of  Natick,  Mass.,  was  a  mem 
ber  of  the  Legislature  with  the  writer  in  1894.  During  Cleve 
land's  second  term,  he  was  postmaster  of  Natick.] 

In  the  month  of  December,  one  bright  morning,  the  16th, 
those  of  us  who  were  looking  from  the  window  saw  the  guards 
thrown  into  a  state  of  great  excitement.  Their  guns  had  been 
stacked  in  the  plaza  before  us;  but  now,  seizing  them,  they 
rushed  with  speed  to  the  officers'  prison,  and,  thrusting  their 
weapons  through  the  windows,  fired.  All  this  was  an  enigma 
to  us,  and  it  was  not  till  sometime  afterward  that  we  learned 
that  a  plan  had  been  formed  to  seize  the  guards  in  the  prison, 
rush  to  the  square,  appropriate  the  guns,  free  the  prisoners, 
arm  them  from  the  neighboring  arsenal,  and  march  away  to 
freedom. 

"But  the  best  laid  plans  of  mice  and  men, 
Gang  aft  aglae." 

Some  of  the  officers  had  voted  the  scheme  hair-brained,  though 
they  went  into  it  rather  than  have  the  name  of  standing  out. 
Your  Rhode  Island  Frenchman,  General  Duflfie,*  was  the  chief 
promoter  of  the  affair,  and  it  is  possible  that  they  might  have 
gotten  out  of  the  building  had  not  the  very  anxiety  of  the  pris 
oners  to  get  down  the  stairs  occasioned  so  much  noise  that  the 
outside  door,  opened  to  their  call,  was  speedily  closed  and  the 
death-dealing  volley  followed.  Colonel  Raulston,  of  the  24th 
New  York  Cavalry,  who  had  deemed  the  plan  suicidal,  was 
killed,  and  several  were  wounded.  Of  those  men  who  thus, 
twenty-five  years  ago,  made  a  break  for  liberty,  probably  not 
a  third  are  living  to-day. 

Men  who  had  gone  out  to  work  on  the  rebel  fortifications 
from  No.  6  made  good  their  escape,  at  least  for  a  few  days. 
Some  succeeded  in  getting  to  our  lines,  more  were  recaptured. 

*Vide  note  on  page  198. 


344  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Let  it  be  said  to  the  credit  of  No.  1  that,  to  my  knowledge, 
only  one  man  was  found  who  was  willing  to  sell  his  services 
to  his  enemies.  He  took  the  oath  of  allegiance  and  remained 
there  when  we  came  away.  It  was  a  daily  sight  to  see  the  col 
ored  prisoners  driven  to  and  from  No.  3,  there  to  dig  upon 
the  fortifications.  Neighboring  farmers  could  secure  any  one  of 
these  men  by  simply  claiming  them.  They  were  beaten  and 
starved  till  scarcely  any  were  left.  One  man  was  sent  to  Rich 
mond  as  a  cook  and  he  came  away  from  that  place  with  us. 
He  told  me  that,  so  far  as  he  knew,  he  was  the  only  survivor 
of  the  Mine  captives  to  be  sent  North. 

December  20th,  in  spite  of  a  drizzling  rain,  I  remained  in 
the  yard  till  I  was  quite  wet.  This  was  at  nightfall.  By  8 
o'clock  I  was  down  with  an  attack  of  diphtheria.  All  through 
the  night  I  had  great  difficulty  in  breathing.  The  next  day  I 
grew  worse,  but  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  for  me.  The 
22d,  in  the  morning  with  several  others,  I  was  trundled  off 
to  the  hospital  in  a  condition  which,  I  have  always  thought, 
arising  at  home,  would  have  finished  me.  There  was  no  debil 
itating  sympathy  around  me,  and  1  had  no  relish  for  a  grave 
in  Virginia,  sacred  though  its  soil  be.  I  was  in  no  condition 
to  appreciate  the  view  of  the  streets,  though  I  remember  pass 
ing  No.  6,  and  we  are  finally  landed  at  the  hospital.  Here  I 
am  assigned  to  a  cot,  and  the  German  steward  proudly  refers 
to  me  as  the  first  case  of  diphtheria,  and  so  far  as  I  know  I 
am  the  only  case  during  our  imprisonment.  In  a  few  days  my 
disease  yields  to  lunar  caustic  and  flax-seed  poultices,  and  I 
then  have  a  chance  to  look  about  me.  The  doctor  makes  his 
rounds  and  asks  me,  "Well,  how  ye  comin'  on  to-day?"  He 
is  a  kind  man  and  I  respect  him.  Dr.  Dame,  the  Episcopal 
rector,  New  Hampshire  born,  and  a  second  cousin  of  Caleb 
Gushing,  calls  almost  daily  on  us,  and,  on  his  asking  me  what 
he  can  do  for  me,  I  suggest  a  book.  The  next  coming  brings 
"Paradise  Lost" — there  being  a  degree  of  fitness  in  his  selection 
that  I  don't  believe  occurred  to  him.  In  December  last  (1888, 
the  24th)  I  called  on  the  aged  clergyman  and  said  to  him, 
grasping  his  hand,  "You  don't  know  me;  but  I  was  sick  and 
in  prison  and  ye  visited  me."  With  what  cordiality  came  the 
response,  "Is  that  so?  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  Come,  let  us  sit 
and  talk."  For  nearly  an  hour  we  discourse  of  these  remote 
times,  and  he  tells  that  wherever  it  was  possible  he  sent  a 


DANVILLE    PICTURES. 

CONFEDERATE  MONUMENT.  PRISON  HEADQUARTERS. 

HOSPITAL  SPRING.  REV.  GEO.  VV.  DAME,  D.  D. 


PRISONERS  OF  WAR.  345 

letter  to  the  friends  of  the  dead  prisoners.  Whatever  of  im 
provement  there  was  in  our  treatment  above  that  given  to  men 
further  South,  I  think  was  largely  owing  to  him.  To  my  mind 
he  filled,  in  the  broadest  sense,  the  definition  of  the  Christian. 
Though  Northern  born,  his  early  going  to  the  South,  his  edu 
cation  at  ETampden-Sidney,  his  marriage  and  long  residence 
in  Virginia,  all  combined  to  make  his  prejudices  in  favor  of 
secession;  but  he  was  more  than  rebel  or  Federal,  he  was  a 
Christian  man.  Going  into  one  of  the  prisons  one  Sunday  to  preach 
he  found  a  second  cousin,  by  the  name  of  Gushing,  from  the 
old  Bay  State,  and  he  led  the  singing.  So  thoroughly  did  the 
war  mix  up  families.  His  talks  to  the  men  were  always  most 
respectfully  received,  and  when  in  the  following  April,  the  6th 
Corps  entered  Danville,  no  one  received  more  considerate  at 
tention  than  the  Kev.  George  W.  Dame.* 


*George  Washington  Dame,  son  of  Jabez  and  Elizabeth  Hansen 
Gushing  Dame,  was  born  in  Rochester,  N.  H.,  July  27, 1812.  As  a  child 
he  was  taken  to  Virginia  by  his  maternal  uncle,  Jonathan  P.  Gushing, 
president  of  Hampden- Sidney  College,  Prince  Edward  county  (whose 
chief  town  is  Farmville),  where  the  subsequent  divine  was  graduated 
in  1829.  He  lived  to  be  the  oldest  surviving  graduate  of  his  alma 
mater.  For  several  years  an  instructor  in  his  college,  he  studied 
medicine,  both  in  Prince  Edward  Medical  School  located  in  Richmond, 
and  in  the  University  of  Pennsylvania.  He  severed  his  connection 
with  the  college  in  1836.  As  an  M.  D.  in  Lynchburg  he  prepared  a 
biographical  sketch  of  his  distinguished  uncle's  life.  Later,  from 
Hampden- Sidney,  he  received  the  degree  of  D.  D.  After  all,  his  trend 
was  towards  theology,  and  in  1840  he  became  the  organizer  and  first 
rector  of  the  Episcopal  Church  in  Danville.  At  that  time  there  were 
only  eight  communicants  in  Camden  Parish,  including  Pittsylvania, 
Franklin,  Henry  and  Patrick  counties.  He  had  only  four  resident 
members  at  the  beginning,  and  he  continued  the  sole  incumbent  till 
1895,  when  he  became  emeritus.  He  died  suddenly  Christmas  eve, 
1895.  He  was  married,  July  22,  1835,  to  Miss  Lucy  Maria,  daughter  of 
Major  Carter  Page,  a  soldier  of  the  Revolution,  and  through  her 
mother,  Lucy,  a  grand -daughter  of  General  Thomas  Nelson,  a  signer 
of  the  Declaration  from  Virginia.  She  died  September  11, 1895.  Three 
of  their  sons,  the  Rev.  Wm.  M.  of  Baltimore,  the  Rev.  Geo.  W.,  Jr., 
also  of  Baltimore,  and  the  Rev.  Nelson  P.  of  Winchester,  are  Episcopal 
rectors.  Dr.  Dame  was  conspicuous  in  Masonry,  having  been,  from 
1864  to  his  death,  grand  chaplain  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Virginia. 
For  the  majority  of  the  preceding  facts  I  am  indebted  to  the  Rev.  J. 
Cleveland  Hall,  Dr.  Dame's  successor.  The  accompanying  picture, 
representing  the  venerable  clergyman  standing  under  the  porch  of 
his  residence,  was  made,  with  his  consent,  just  as  I  was  leaving  him 
after  our  very  happy  interview.— A.  S.  R. 


346  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

As  I  convalesced  I  explored.  I  found  that  our  hospital  was 
built  for  Confederate  occupancy;  but  necessity  had  filled  it 
with  Yankees.  So  far  as  I  could  observe,  we  received  as  good 
as  our  captors  had  to  give.  A  good  lady*  living  near,  whose 
name  I  have  never  learned,  daily  sent  to  us  some  sort  of  deli 
cacy,  and  that  was  honestly  given  to  us.  The  two  Confederate 
officers  who  were  about  our  ward  held  converse  as  to  the  ap 
proaching  Christmas,  and  great  expectations  were  had  over 
a  visit  to  the  home  of  one  of  them.  The  principal  present  to 
be  taken  was  a  pair  of  shoes,  made  by  one  of  our  men,  to  be 
given  to  a  sister.  The  poverty  of  the  country  was  apparent 
in  the  most  commonplace  conversation.  On  their  return  from 
their  festival  they  dilated  on  the  pleasure  afforded  by  that 
one  pair  of  Yankee-made  shoes.  The  next  May  I  met  one  of 
these  lieutenants  at  Boston  Station,  on  the  Richmond  and  Dan 
ville  railroad,  the  same  being  near  his  home,  and  I  recall  his 
wonder  at  my  rehearsal  of  his  pre  and  post  Christmas  talks. 

When,  one  morning,  one  of  the  men  said,  "That  fellow  out 
at  the  dead-house  had  scales  like  an  alligator,"  I  was  moved 
with  a  desire  to  see  that  place.  At  the  earliest  possible  mo 
ment  I  made  my  way  there,  and  daily  thereafter  I  made  morning 
visits  to  see  who  had  been  brought  out  during  the  night  or  in 
the  early  morn.  I  frequently  helped  the  negro  driver  to  lift 
the  dead  into  the  boxes,  there  being  for  me  a  morbid  attraction 
for  the  place  wholly  unaccountable.  As  a  rule  the  bodies  were 
not  molested,  though  on  one  occasion  wandering  swine  sadly 
disfigured  several.  Once,  at  least,  a  seeming  corpse  was  car 
ried  out  before  it  was  really  thus,  and,  revived  by  the  clear 

air,  Jimmy  O ds  arose  and,  naked,  marched  into  the  ward 

proclaiming  himself  "not  dead  yet  by  a  d — d  sight."  Weeks 
afterward  I  saw  the  same  Jimmy  peacefully  smoking  his  du- 
deen  in  Annapolis.  My  rambles  are,  of  course,  confined  to  the 
bounds  of  the  hospital  inclosure;  but  with  returning  strength 
came  a  revived  appetite,  one  that  my  rations  by  no  means  sat 
isfied.  I  refrain  from  telling  the  straits  to  which  I  was  forced 
in  my  researches  about  the  cook-house,  and  the  quantity  and 
quality  of  alleged  food  that  I  secured.  My  mine  was  the  foun 
dation  of  a  little  plan  to  run  away  with  a  western  soldier, 


*I  was  told  that  her  husband  was  a  surgeon  in  the  Confederate  ser 
vice. 


PRISONERS  OF  WAR.  347 

though  he  came  from  Ireland  before  he  went  west,  but  before 
we  could  get  our  stock  in  provisions  we  were  sent  back  to  the 
prison. 

In  my  liberty  or  freedom  of  the  wards,  I  went  through  them 
all,  in  search  of  certain  trinkets  or  keepsakes  left  by  friends  of 
mine,  and  to  see  some  of  the  living  who  were  unable  to  leave 
their  cots.  The  little  reticule  containing  peach-pit  dishes  made 
by  David  Wilson  for  his  sisters,  I  found  and  later  sent  to  his 
family.  I  stood  by  the  side  of  Corporal  Mead,  of  my  company, 
and  as  I  saw  his  giant  form  dwindled  to  nothing  but  bones, 
barely  covered  with  skin,  I  forgave  him  his  crowding  me  out 
of  the  place  I  had  made  for  myself  one  night  down  on  the 
Weldon  railroad,  and  I  devoutly  wished  him  a  safe  passage 
on  the  journey  he  must  make  so  soon. 

"Kitty  Baker!  Why  don't  you  come,  Kitty  Baker?"  is  the 
sad  monologue  that  all  one  night  may  be  heard  throughout  the 
ward.  I  did  not  know  the  dying  man ;  but  imagination  pictured 
scenes  in  a  far-away  land,  where,  perhaps,  some  one  anxiously 
awaited  a  coming  that  could  never  be. 

Frank  Gustin  had  lived  in  the  same  town  as  myself,  and  I 
promised  him,  if  I  survived,  to  carry  a  lock  of  his  hair  to  his 
aunt.  During  that  last  night  of  his  life,  his  labored  breathing 
proclaimed  the  approaching  end.  The  lock  that  I  cut  from  his 
brow  was  carried  to  the  relative  who  had  not  known  his  where 
abouts,  he  having  run  away  to  enlist. 

I  would  omit  the  following  scene  did  I  not  wish  to  reveal 
as  fully  as  possible  the  secrets  of  my  prison-house.  Says  Stew 
ard  Small  one  day,  "If  you  men  want  to  see  a  sight  you  never 
saw  equaled,  just  come  out  here  to  the  corner."  We  went; 
seated  in  a  chair  was  a  man  whom  I  had  often  noted  as  wear 
ing  a  close-fitting  skull-cap,  which  I  had  never  seen  removed. 
It  was  now  off  and  vermin  covered  his  head  in  a  way  I  had 
never  dreamed  of.  The  steward,  with  a  pair  of  scissors,  clipped 
off  the  locks,  of  a  warm  red  hue,  and  as  they  touched  the 
ground  they  seemed  to  have  a  jelly-like  consistency.  The  hair 
off,  a  comb  was  drawn  down  his  cranium,  each  draught  rolling 
up  a  wad  of  squirming  life  as  large  as  one's  finger.  The  back 
of  the  head  was  like  a  mass  of  raw  beef.  We  were  close  to 
the  path  along  which  all  those  must  go  who  went  for  water, 
for  just  below  us  was  a  fine  spring.  These  men  were  no 
novices  in  prison  sights;  but  here  was  something  that  aston- 


348  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

ished  them.  Stopping,  they,  in  turn,  called  on  all  the  names 
of  the  deity,  and  also  those  of  the  denizens  of  Inferno.  The 
poor  victim  seemed  absolutely  without  feeling.  The  sequel  is 
sad;  for,  bereft  of  his  hair,  like  Samson,  his  strength  failed 
and  death  soon  followed.  What  was  strangest  in  the  whole 
affair  was  the  fact  that  no  one  remembered  seeing  him  scratch 
his  head,  and  it  was  only  Steward  Small's  discovery  of  the 
vermin  crawling  from  beneath  his  cap  that  led  to  the  investi 
gation.  I  reasoned  that  his  whole  scalp  was  paralyzed  or  be 
numbed. 

My  stay  at  the  hospital  is  one  month  long,  and  then  I  am 
marched,  with  others,  back  to  my  old  quarters,  or  as  near  them 
as  I  can  get.  Rumors  of  exchange  grow  more  common.  It 
begins  to  look  as  though  the  Confederates  would  relent  and 
allow  that  a  black  man  may  be  a  soldier.  After  the  coldest 
weather  is  over,  clothing  that  had  been  sent  into  the  Confed 
eracy  early  in  the  season  is  passed  down  to  us.  It  is  distributed, 
but  so  hungry  are  we  that  we  very  readily  trade  it  with  the 
rebels  for  something  to  eat,  and  in  a  few  brief  hours  we  are  as 
ragged  as  ever.  Every  movement  on  the  part  of  our  guards 
seems  to  indicate  that  a  change  is  near.  By  and  by  comes  the 
statement  that  to-morrow  we  go.  To  be  sure,  the  morrow  is 
again  and  again  removed,  but  that  we  shall  get  out  is  evident. 
In  our  joy  over  prospective  release  we  do  not  forget  the  poor 
boys  who  sorrowed  with  us,  but  whom  we  must  leave 
behind  us.  Sergeant  York  of  Company  D, — how  he  walked 
the  floor,  day  after  day,  exclaiming  that  he  must  live 
to  get  home  to  see  his  wife  and  baby.  But  even  his 
will  can  not  keep  him  up.*  Lee  Marcellus,  with  his  good- 


*Prison  notes  from  the  diary  of  Norman  G.  York. 

July  9.  On  skirmish  line.  Retreated  till  next  morning.  Got  over 
ten  miles  on  the  10th.  Captured  on  the  llth. 

July  13.    I  am  sick,  but  the  guards  use  me  very  well. 

July  14.    Cross  the  Potomac. 

July  16.  Long  march,  25  miles;  camp  at  4  P.  M.;  then  12  miles 
further  in  the  night. 

July  18.     March  14  miles  to  Winchester. 

July  20.    Through  Newtown  to  Strasburg,  and  through  that  also. 

July  22.  To  Mt.  Jackson;  23d,  through  Newmarket;  24th,  marched 
18  miles. 

July  25.    To  Staunton,  10  A.  M.,  cars  to  Charlottesville.  Stay  all  night. 

July  26.    Reach  Lynchburg  at  1  P.  M. 


PRISONERS  OF  WAR.  349 

natured  face,  comes  to  mind,  but  he  must  stay.  Tom  Roe,  of 
Company  C,  as  clean  an  Irish  boy  as  ever  crossed  the  ocean, 
can  not  go  home  with  us. 

We  all  remember  Sterne's  "Sentimental  Journey,"  and  that 
at  the  hotel  in  Paris  he  encountered  the  starling  in  his  cage, 
whose  sole  refrain  was,  "I  can't  get  out."  Here  is  the  secret 


July  28.  Leave  Lynchburg  at  sunrise  and  reach  Danville  the  next 
morning. 

July  31.    Rations  at  10  A.  M.,very  short;  rebels  look  half  starved. 

Aug.  2.  A  new  batch  of  prisoners  came  in.  Bread  and  bacon  at  9 
A.  M.;  soup  at  3  P.  M. 

Aug.  4.     Some  sick  men  sent  North.    No  soup. 

Aug.  13.  Anniversary  of  enlistment;  17th,  John  Perkins  (Co.  C) 
went  to  the  hospital,  quick  consumption. 

Aug.  18.    John  Perkins  died  to-day. 

Aug.  29.  I  bet  E.  P.  Dunning  the  oysters  that  we  would  not  be  out 
of  here  in  six  weeks. 

Aug.  30.  More  sick  and  wounded  men  sent  North.  Sept.  3d,  fresh 
beef  served. 

Sept.  15.  With  Fred.  Stell  swept  the  prison  floor.  Sold  my  boots 
for  $25  (Confederate)  and  14  onions,  worth  six  dollars  more.  Bought 
a  pair  of  shoes  for  $8. 

Sept.  24.  Relay  of  prisoners  comes  in  from  No.  6;  28th,  bought  24 
onions  for  $6. 

Oct.  3.  Finished  reading  the  New  Testament  since  I  have  been  in 
prison. 

Oct.  14.  Again  the  sick  are  sent  North.  Levi  Riggs  went  out  to 
barber. 

Oct.  24.  Gave  $6  for  peck  of  sweet  potatoes;  26th,  Dewitt  Havens 
died  at  the  hospital. 

Oct.  29.  Bought  some  more  potatoes.  More  prisoners  came  in  from 
Lynchburg. 

Nov.  1.  Passed  a  bad  night;  2-4,  feeling  badly.  Riggs  sends  in 
extra  food. 

Nov.  14.  Got  letter  from  Wm.  York  dated  Aug.  29,  and  one  from 
father  of  same  date. 

Nov.  16.  Hiram  Peck  went  to  the  hospital;  17th,  came  to  the  hospi 
tal;  25th,  suffering  from  diarrhea. 

Nov.  27.  My  illness  is  worse  this  morning;  had  a  very  poor  night, 
last  night. 

This  was  his  last  entry,  though  he  survived  till  Christmas  day,  when 
he  passed  over  to  the  majority.  Years  afterwards,  it  was  my  privilege 
to  call  on  Mrs.  Charles  H.  Covell  of  Rose,  N.  Y.,  who  was  the  baby, 
Lillian,  never  seen  with  mortal  eyes  by  her  father,  and  to  tell  her  of 
the  absorbing  love  that  imprisoned  parent  had  for  his  child.  Herself 
a  mother,  she  was  able  to  appreciate,  in  part,  how  his  heart  was  filled 
with  regard  for  his  little  one. — A.  S.  R. 


350  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

of  the  horror  of  prison  life.  Over  and  above  the  privations 
of  hunger  and  thirst,  more  biting  than  cold  or  heat,  is  the 
ever-present  thought,  "I  can't  get  out."  When,  finally,  on  the 
19th  of  February,  we  were  actually  marched  out  of  our  prison, 
there  was  no  prisoner-of-Chillon  sigh  upon  my  lips  nor  in  my 
heart.  It  was  not  yet  the  air  of  liberty  that  we  were  breath 
ing;  but  the  prison  was  behind  and  we  were  out.  Down  to  the 
station  which  we  first  saw  six  months  before,  we  march,  and 
here  are  freight  cars  in  waiting.  Sixty-five  of  us  are  crowded 
into  one  car  and  we  proclaim  it  full;  but  fifteen  more  men  are 
jammed  in.  So,  then,  here  we  are — eighty  men,  or  boys — too 
crowded  for  lying  or  even  sitting.  Must  we  stand  all  the  way 
to  Richmond?  It  looks  like  it;  but  we  are  willing  to  endure 
that  and  more  even  if  by  so  doing  we  may  put  distance 
between  ourselves  and  Danville. 

HOME  FROM  PRISON. 

The  horrors  of  that  night,  from  Danville  to  Richmond,  can 
never  be  effaced  from  memory's  tablet.  Eighty  well  men  in 
one  ordinary  box-car  would  certainly  be  uncomfortable,  but 
when  we  remember  that  these  prisoners  had  suffered  much  from 
long  imprisonment,  that  there  were  men  in  the  car  who  could 
not  stand  alone,  that  the  scurvy,  dysentery,  and  many  other 
ailments  had  their  representatives,  some  notion  of  the  night 
that  was  before  us  may  be  had.  We  were  disposed  to  endure 
a  great  deal,  for  we  knew  that  our  way  was  homeward,  but  the 
condition  at  times  seemed  absolutely  unendurable.  The  air 
was  very  keen  and  frosty,  as  cold  as  it  often  gets  in  the  lati 
tude  of  southern  Virginia,  so  in  our  poorly  clad  state,  it  seemed 
necessary  to  have  the  car-door  shut.  The  interior,  in  some 
respects,  soon  resembled  that  of  the  famous  Black  Hole  of  Cal 
cutta.  The  guard  who  stood  at  the  door  suffered  with  the 
rest  of  us.  The  moment  the  door  was  shoved  open  for  a  breath 
of  air,,  some  freezing  wretch  would  clamor  for  its  immediate 
closing.  Finally,  I  asked  and  obtained  the  privilege  of  going 
to  the  top  of  the  car  to  ride  there.  Since  there  was  no  danger 
of  any  one's  trying  to  escape,  my  proposition  found  favor  at 
once,  both  from  the  guard  and  from  my  fellow  prisoners  who 
wanted  my  room.  It  will  be  readily  surmised  that  my  move 
was  not  a  jump  from  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire.  On  the  con- 


PRISONERS  OF  WAR.  351 

trary,  quite  the  reverse.  My  new  Hades  was  like  that  described 
by  Dante,  where  the  lost  are  infernally  and  eternally  preserved 
in  vast  masses  of  never-melting  ice.  I  lay  down  at  full  length 
upon  the  car,  with  my  head  towards  Richmond  and  my  face 
next  to  the  car.  I  didn't  freeze,  that  is  evident,  but  I  was  just 
about  as  cold  as  I  could  be  and  still  be  able  to  move.  Frequent 
stops  were  the  order  in  the  South  during  the  war.  Accordingly 
when  the  train  drew  up  at  a  station,  it  was  possible  for  me  to 
climb  down  and  in  for  a  change.  Sleep  was  the  last  thing 
thought  of  during  these  hours,  the  obstacles  within  and  without 
being  quite  too  numerous  to  be  overcome.  As  for  myself,  I 
alternated  nearly  the  whole  night  long  between  the  interior 
and  exterior  of  the  car.  I  have  very  little  recollection  of  the 
places  or  stations  past  which  we  went,  save  one,  pronounced 
Powatan,  destined,  in  a  few  months,  to  have  a  world-wide  fame 
through  the  closing  scenes  in  the  great  strife  to  be  enacted 
near;  but  I  was  not  a  prophet  and  so  knew  nothing  of  the 
glories  of  the  future.  To  me  it  was  simply  a  place  named  after 
an  Indian  chief  whose  name  I  had  all  my  life  mispronounced 
as  Powhatan,  and  whose  more  famous  daughter,  Pocahontas, 
had  rendered  a  distressed  Englishman  most  excellent  service, 
once  on  a  time.  I  wondered  whether  the  scene  of  the  saving 
were  not  near,,  hence  accounting  for  the  name.  Our  guard, 
however,  had  not  received  much  culture  from  the  schools,  and 
so  was  quite  unable  to  shed  any  light  upon  the  subject.  He 
simply  knew  that  we  were  Yanks,  proverbial  for  curiosity, 
whose  zeal  for  knowledge  not  even  months  of  imprisonment 
could  extinguish. 

Morning  brought  the  sun  and  Richmond.  I  was  taking  one 
of  my  reliefs  on  the  car  top  when  the  famous  city  came  in 
sight.  Had  I  then  known  all  the  bearings  of  the  Capital  of 
the  Confederacy,  my  exalted  outlook  might  have  given  me  a 
view  of  the  prison  of  Belle  Isle,  for  it  was  plainly  visible  at 
my  left.  This  I  did  not  know.  Then  I  was  more  intent  on  the 
sight  of  the  James,  which  the  events  of  more  than  200  years 
had  rendered  historical.  The  bridge  itself  was  the  one  soon 
to  be  burned  on  the  flight  of  the  Confederate  president.  We 
halt  just  over  the  stream,  and  are  marched,  as  we  suppose,  to 
Libby.  From  the  names  on  the  street  corners  I  soon  learned 
that  we  were  on  Carey  street.  From  my  outside  perch  it  had 
been  easy  for  me  to  get  pretty  near  the  head  of  the  line.  Our 


352  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

march,  however,  was  destined  to  be  a  short  one,  for  in  a  few 
minutes  we  discovered  ahead  of  us  the  celebrated  sign,  "Libby 
&  Sons,  Ship  Chandlers  and  Grocers."  I  well  remember  saying 
to  my  nearest  comrade,  "Wouldn't  that  sign  be  a  drawing-card 
at  a  sanitary  fair  up  North?"  Some  weeks  afterwards,  I  was 
not  a  little  pleased  at  seeing  the  same  sign  advertised  as  the 
most  interesting  object  at  a  fair  in,  I  think,  Philadelphia. 

Our  march  and  observations  were  temporarily  halted  in  front 
of  a  very  large  building,  which,  from  its  numerous  disconsolate 
occupants,  we  concluded  to  be  a  prison  of  some  sort.  Natural 
ly  we  thought  the  prisoners  unfortunates  similar  to  ourselves, 
but  on  our  making  sundry  remarks,  we  were  informed  in  tones 
unmistakably  secesh,  "We  ain't  Yanks,  we're  rebs."  There 
could  be  no  doubt  about  that.  No  man,  born  north  of  Mason 
and  Dixon's  Line,  could  articulate  in  such  a  thin-speeched 
manner  as  that.  We  were  in  front  of  Castle  Thunder,  long  the 
prison-house  of  Confederate  deserters  and  political  prisoners 
generally.  Here  we  are  made  to  march  out  in  single  file,  that 
we  might  be  the  better  numbered.  Of  course  we  thought  our 
destination  to  be  the  notorious  Libby,  but  we  were  pushed 
right  along  and  into  a  building  opposite,  which  we  soon  learned 
was  called  Pemberton,  and  a  sorry  old  rookery  it  was,  too. 
It  was  three  stories  high,  an  old  tobacco  warehouse,  deserving 
a  history  of  its  own,  but  almost  entirely  lost  sight  of  in  the 
greater  reputation  of  its  neighbor,  Libby.  We  were  under  pre 
cisely  the  same  rule  as  the  other  edifice,  but  we  were  under  a  dif 
ferent  name.  As  we  were  sure  that  our  stay  was  to  be  very 
short  in  Richmond,  we  were  disposed  to  endure  all  our  ills  with 
a  deal  of  complacency,  thinking  them  to  be  of  brief  duration. 
Our  food  was  of  the  regulation  pattern,  corndodger,  compact 
and  almost  saltless,  with  as  much  water  as  we  could  coax  out 
of  the  dribbling  faucets.  We  were  as  hungry  as  famine  could 
make  us,  but  of  this  kind  of  ration  our  stomachs  were  thorough 
ly  cloyed.  We  ate  but  little  of  it  and  threw  the  remainder 
on  the  floor,  much  to  the  disgust  of  our  rebel  guards,  who  as 
sured  us  that  we  might  have  to  go  hungry  for  our  wasteful 
ness;  but  we  ran  the  risk  and  awaited  the  issue.  The  debris 
was  gathered  up  and  thrown  into  the  street,  where  it  afforded 
causes  for  unlimited  quarrelings  among  the  colored  people  as 
long  as  there  was  anything  left.  The  officer  who  came  in  each 
morning  to  count  us  was  either  a  good  actor  or  a  perfect  devil, 


PRISONERS  OF  WAR.  353 

for  each  time  that  he  made  his  appearance,  he  came  cursing 
and  swearing  up  the  stairs  with  a  revolver  in  one  hand  and 
his  note-book  in  the  other.    He  had  an  escort  of  two  or  three 
soldiers  to  see  that  the  terrible  Yankees  did  not  eat  him,  I  sup 
pose.     He  may  have  been  Dick  Turner  himself,  but  I  can  not 
say.    At  any  rate,  he  filled  the  Turner  descriptive  list  pretty 
well.     His  morning  salutation  was  something  like  this:  "Fall 
into  line,  you  G —  d — d  Yankee  sons  of  b — s."     It  was  new 
usage  to  us,  but  he  had  the  advantage  of  us  in  that  he  had  the 
energy  of  position.    We  might  inwardly  resent,  but  we  thought 
the  best  thing  for  us  to  do  was  to  get  into  place  just  as  quickly 
as  possible.    There  was  no  back  talk,  not  a  word,  but  if  looks 
could  have  killed,  he  had  been  a  dead  man  a  dozen  times.    His 
conduct  was  of  a  piece  with  that  generally  had  in  Eichmond, 
I  am  told.     Our  views  of  the  city,  as  in  Danville,  had  to  be 
taken  at  a  proper  distance  from  the  windows.     One  day  we 
heard  a  tremendous  hurrahing  and  soon  saw  a  large  number 
of  men  filing  by  our  building.    They  seemed  to  be  in  excellent 
condition  and  spirits.       We  subsequently  learned    that    they 
were  paroled  prisoners  from  the  north  who  had  just  come  up 
the  river.    They  were  very  enthusiastically  greeted  by  the  citi 
zens,  and  they  acted  as  though  they  had  had  enough  to  eat 
in  their  northern  residence.     The  contrast  with  the  weakened 
condition  about  us  was  painfully  apparent.    They  marched  off 
as  we  did   when  we  were  well  fed  at  home.    The  appointments 
of  Pemberton  were  not  so  convenient  as  those  of  Danville,  bad 
as  we  thought  the  latter.     The  sinks  were  at  the  end  of  the 
room,  and  the  occupants  of  the  upper  floors  were  at  the  mercy 
of  those  below,  for  if  the  water  were  set  running  there,  then 
those  above  could  wait  till  it  suited  the  convenience  of  their 
compatriots  for  them  to  be  served.    Of  course  we  could  go  be 
low  ourselves  if  we  liked,  but  we  were  not  very  well  received 
when  we  went  traveling.    The  inevitable  result  of  our  want  of 
sufficient  water  was  a  very  sad  condition  of  sanitation. 

I  am  able  to  record  that  I  was  in  Libby  prison,  in  war-times, 
if  only  for  a  moment.  Men  were  called  for  to  go  over  to  Libby 
for  the  purpose  of  getting  some  wood.  Thinking  it  an  oppor 
tunity  that  I  could  not  afford  to  lose,  I  at  once  volunteered, 
and  with  several  others  went  across  the  street  to  the  edifice 
and  down  behind  it,  where  on  the  canal  or  river  side,  we  found 
an  entrance  to  the  lower  regions.  This  basement  seemed  to 

23 


354  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

be  a  sort  of  wood-house.  Of  course  my  eyes  were  open  for  what 
might  fill  them,  and  I  remember  asking  the  guard  if  he  could 
show  me  the  place  through  which  Colonel  Straight  and  his 
comrades  escaped.  He  pointed  out  a  large  opening  in  the  wall 
as  the  excavation  made  by  the  redoubtable  Indiana  officer,  but 
in  the  light  of  subsequent  knowledge,  I  am  convinced  that  he 
was  imposing  upon  me.  However,  I  was  just  as  happy  then 
over  my  information  as  I  would  have  been  had  it  been  bona 
fide  truth.  I  didn't  know  the  difference.  How  frequently  is 
ignorance  bliss! 

The  morning  of  the  memorable  22d  of  February,  1865,  was 
destined  to  bring  to  us  more  than  usual  significance.  It  was 
to  be  to  us  the  day  of  liberation.  I  can  not  recall  the  hour, 
but  on  this  day  we  were  ordered  into  line  and  again  we  bade 
adieu  to  a  prison-house  and  filed  out  into  Carey  street.  Now 
we  turn  towards  the  east  and  it  looks  as  though  home  were 
in  prospect.  Our  progress,  though,  is  slow  and  there  are  many 
waitings,  which  we  try  to  fill  in  with  observations  on  our  sur 
roundings.  The  "Johnny"  dialect  comes  in  for  a  deal  of  criti 
cism.  The  average  Southron  will  beat  any  other  mortal  living 
in  dividing  monosyllables.  To  him  "guard''  is  always  "gyard." 
"You"  and  "we"  become  "You-uns"  and  "We-uns."  He  likes 
authority,  too,  and  the  devoted  guard  was  kept  in  a  constant 
panic  lest  he  was  not  in  the  right  place. 

It  was  during  our  march  to  the  landing  that  I  was  guilty 
of  my  only  offense  in  passing  bad  money.  A  year  or  more  be 
fore,  a  cousin  had  visited  my  father's  home,  and  coming  directly 
from  a  commercial  college,  he  had  some  of  the  so-called  cur 
rency  used  in  the  make-believe  banking  of  the  college.  Natural 
ly  he  gave  me  a  specimen  of  the  bills,  and  as  naturally  I  laid  my 
acquisition  away  in  my  pocket.  There  it  had  remained  during 
all  my  campaigning  and  imprisonment  till  this  day.  As  before 
stated,  we  did  not  eat  much  of  the  food  given  us  by  the  rebels, 
but  we  were  very  hungry  all  the  same.  So  when  on  our  way 
down,  the  people  came  about  us  with  food  for  sale,  anxious  to 
get  some  of  the  Northern  money,  there  arose  in  me  a  disposi 
tion  to  work  off  that  spurious  bill  so  long  in  my  possession.  To 
cut  a  long  story  short,  it  bought  for  me  a  loaf  of  bread,,  which 
was  speedily  put  where  it  would  do  the  most  good.  Was  I 
justifiable?  Let  some  one  as  hungry  as  myself  answer.  Any  crit 
icism  from  well-fed  stay-at-homes  will  not  be  accepted.  When 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  355 

John  Brown  was  asked  if  he  could  find  any  Bible  justification 
in  his  destruction  of  property  and  life  in  his  Harper's  Ferry 
raid,  he  is  said  to  have  replied,  "Shall  we  not  spoil  the  Egyp 
tians?"  After  all  we  were  not  particularly  concerned  about 
great  moral  questions  in  those  days. 

In  the  days  before  my  enlistment,  I  had  been  an  eager  reader 
and  an  ardent  admirer  of  Edgar  Allan  Poe.  Just  before  me 
was  the  very  stream  in  whose  waters  he  is  said  to  have  swum 
seven  miles,  and  I  wondered  whether  his  course  was  over  the 
route  about  to  be  traveled  by  us. 

I  have  stopped  in  Richmond  twice  since  that  day  in  Febru 
ary.  The  first  time  was  in  the  following  May,  when  the  6th 
Corps  marched  down  from  its  camp  in  Manchester,  opposite, 
and  crossed  the  James  on  a  pontoon  bridge  placed  very  near 
the  point  where  we  took  the  boat  on  our  departure  from  the 
city.  My  original  visit  was  confined  to  the  vicinity  of  Carey 
street.  Then  I  was  under  rebel  guidance,  now  I  was  carrying 
a  gun,  and  we  marched  by  the  flank  with  fixed  bayonets,  mak 
ing,  as  we  ascended  State  street,  a  glittering  sea  of  burnished 
steel.  From  walk  to  walk  there  was  just  one  mass  of  glisten 
ing  points.  The  blinds  of  the  houses  were  nearly  all  closed, 
for  the  occupants  had  no  eyes  for  such  a  sight  as  this.  That 
one  view  of  the  array  of  arms  behind  me  was  something  of  a 
compensation  for  the  rigors  of  my  introduction  to  the  Capital 
of  the  Confederacy. 

My  second  revisiting  was  in  February,  1888.  Then  I  went 
purposely  to  see  what  I  could  of  the  places  so  prominent  twen 
ty-five  years  before.  The  Pemberton  of  the  Rebellion  had  dis 
appeared  by  fire,  and  in  its  place  was  an  honest  blacksmith 
shop  where  diligent  toilers  were  earning  a  livelihood.  Only 
a  tradition  places  the  old  building  on  the  site.  Libby  is  yet 
standing,  soon,  however,  to  be  transported  to  Chicago.  "Another 
reason,"  I  heard  a  man  remark,,  "why  that  city  should  suffer 
from  another  conflagration."  Despite  the  overpowering  odor 
of  phosphate  fertilizers,  I  have  little  trouble  in  doing  the  edi 
fice  and  in  tracing  out  the  spots  where  misery  was  once  so  rife. 
I  seek  out  the  home  of  Jefferson  Davis  during  the  war,  now  the 
peaceful  abode  of  a  girls'  school.  The  Capitol  is  entered  and 
all  its  resources  explored.  I  go  into  the  library  and  note  the 
prominence  of  Confederate  faces  and  flags,  and  I  wonder  if  Vir 
ginia  had  any  history  before  the  war.  Perhaps  the  fact  that 


356  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

it  was  a  lost  cause  has  given  to  the  strife  a  peculiar  tenderness, 
for  certain  it  is  that  we  of  the  North  know  nothing  of  the 
intensity  of  the  fervor  with  which  the  average  Southron  re 
gards  all  memories  of  the  Rebellion.  Climbing  to  the  cupola 
of  the  structure  I  can  see  the  whole  city  spread  out  before  me. 
Just  at  my  feet  is  the  famous  equestrian  statue  of  Washington, 
surrounded  by  other  notable  sons  of  Virginia,  fortunately 
erected  before  the  war,  or  it  would  not  have  been  constructed 
at  all,  for  now  the  Mother  of  Presidents  is  devoting  all  her 
resources  to  commemorating  the  memories  of  her  Lees  and 
Jacksons,  men  who  did  their  best  to  destroy  that  which  her 
Washington,  Jefferson,  and  others  labored  and  fought  to  build. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  street  is  the  church  in  which  Davis 
was — shall  I  say  "worshiping"? — when  the  news  of  the  break 
ing  of  the  lines  was  brought  to  him  and  whence  he  made  his 
hurried  flight.  And  then  to  Hollywood,  where  repose  so  many 
whom  the  nation  knows.  The  guide  will  tell  you  that  three 
presidents  are  buried  here,  but  naturally  he  can  only  name  two, 
for  the  very  good  reason  that  Monroe  and  Tyler  are  the  only 
ones.  From  their  graves  we  pass  to  that  portion  of  the  cemetery 
devoted  to  the  Confederate  dead.  As  we  wander  among  the 
graves  or  stand  beside  the  pyramidal  structure  that  feminine  de 
votion  has  reared  to  Confederate  valor,  we  will  doff  our  hats, 
for  we  know  that  those  who  met  us  in  open  fight  were  brave,  and 
that  they  deserve  of  us  what  is  a  tribute  to  bravery  everywhere, 
respect.  There  is  one  more  place  to  visit,  and  we  cross  the 
James  and  stand  on  the  accursed  soil  of  Belle  Isle.  We  can 
find  not  the  slightest  trace  of  the  horrors  that  made  this  name 
a  hiss  and  a  by-word  among  all  Christian  people.  The  river, 
however,  flows  by  just  as  muddy  and  just  as  forbidding  as 
when  it  formed  an  effectual  barrier  to  the  famishing  prisoner 
held  upon  the  island.  Noisy  and  busy  iron-works  occupy  the 
eastern  end  of  the  isle,  and  only  a  barren  waste  is  found  where 
once  was  suffered  unutterable  agony.  I  wonder  why  Chicago 
doesn't  buy  Belle  Isle! 

We  were  told  that  we  were  the  first  detachment  to  go  down 
the  river  under  the  resumption  of  the  general  cartel  of  ex 
change;  but  of  this  I  am  not  prepared  to  affirm  or  deny.  I  do 
know  that  we  were  a  very  happy  lot  of  men  and  boys  on  our 
way  to  what  we  called  God's  country,  happy  though  we  knew 
that  we  had  left  behind  us  upon  the  prison  floor  the  dead 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  357 

bodies  of  two  of  our  comrades.  They  had  died  on  the  very 
threshold  of  freedom.  In  fancy  I  often  see  those  lonely  bodies 
stretched  in  death,  bodies  whose  souls  had  only  a  day  or  two 
before  rejoiced  with  us  on  the  advent  of  certain  liberty;  but 
they  were  not  strong  enough  for  the  journey,  and  the  cup  fell 
from  them  even  wrhen  at  their  very  lips.  Another  who  was  sup 
ported  by  tender  hands  as  we  went  down  to  the  boat,  had  not 
the  strength  to  leave  it,  and  was  carried  back  to  Richmond  for 
rebel  burial. 

The  boat  itself  is  only  a  dim  image  through  the  intervening 
years.  I  remember  that  in  front  of  the  pilot-house  were  seated 
General  Robert  Quids,  well  known  in  the  annals  of  prisoner 
exchanges  as  the  Confederate  commissioner,  and  by  his  side 
were  Brigadier  Generals  John  Hays,  of  New  York,  and  A.  N. 
Duffie,  of  Rhode  Island,  the  unsuccessful  garroter  in  the  at 
tempted  escape  from  Danville.  They  had  not  the  least  trace 
of  any  differences  of  opinions,  and  for  aught  we  could  see  they 
were  friends  of  long  standing.  I  envied  the  Union  officers  the 
information  that  I  was  certain  the  commissioner  was  giving 
them.  I  knew  that  we  were  passing  historic  scenes,  but  my 
comrades  were  as  ignorant  as  myself,  and  the  rebel  guards 
were  as  stupid  as  usual,  and  that  means  that  their  education 
did  not  begin  very  early.  The  boat  picked  its  way  very  ginger 
ly  all  the  distance  down,  for  the  river  was  well  planted  with 
torpedoes,  and  the  rebs  knew  how  thoroughly  loaded  they 
were.  Some  points  we  recognized  without  any  informants,  as 
a  frowning  fortification  on  our  right  we  readily  named  Fort 
Darling,  long  a  source  of  Federal  anxiety.  The  Dutch  Gap 
canal,  the  scene  of  General  Butler's  efforts,  is  also  found;  but 
in  the  main  the  descent  of  the  stream  is  rather  tame.  At  Rich 
mond  some  of  the  men  had  received  long-delayed  boxes,  and 
now  on  their  way  down  the  river  they  regaled  themselves  with 
the  contents.  They  were  objects  of  almost  wolfish  regard  to  their 
fellow  prisoners,  in  whose  stomachs  there  were  vacua  of  long 
existence.  How  quickly  wre  forgot  our  ills.  An  officer,  whose 
stomach  had  become  pretty  well  filled  by  the  contents  of  his 
box,  was  about  to  throw  overboard  a  cheese-rind.  I  had  been 
watching  the  man  for  some  time,  wondering  where  my  share 
was  to  come  in.  Disgusted  at  such  wicked  wastefulness  I 
eagerly  sought  the  morsel  for  myself.  It  was  given  to  me,  but 
with  much  the  same  expression  that  a  rebel  officer's  face  wore 


358  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

when  he  saw  a  half-famished  prisoner  in  Danville  gnawing 
ravenously  at  an  old  bone  that  he  had  picked  up  somewhere. 
I  believe  the  rebel  called  upon  the  Saviour  of  mankind  in  no 
reverent  manner  to  witness  that  he  had  never  seen  anything 
so  disgusting  before.  My  donor  had  forgotten  his  own  feelings 
a  few  hours  previously,  when  he,  too,  would  have  eaten  anything 
that  he  could  find,  clean  or  filthy. 

Just  a  little  ways  below  Butler's  canal,  in  fact  scarcely  more 
than  around  the  bend,  we  are  delighted  at  the  sight  of  a  man 
standing  on  the  shore  holding  a  white  flag.  It  is  Colonel  Mul- 
ford,  the  Federal  commissioner  of  exchange,  and  he  is  await 
ing  us.  We  are  all  excitement,  and  naturally  so.  A  few  paces 
back  of  him  are  a  few  soldiers,  a  sort  of  escort.  Our  boat 
rounds  up  to  the  landing,  which  we  learn  is  Aiken's,  very  ap 
propriately  named,  we  thought,  for  it  was  just  the  place  we 
had  been  aching  to  reach  for  many  a  long  and  weary  day. 
The  guards  have  difficulty  in  keeping  us  away  from  the  side  of 
the  vessel,  so  anxious  are  we  to  be  the  first  off  the  boat  and 
so  the  first  out  of  the  Confederacy.  Force  only  prevented  many 
jumping  from  the  boat  in  our  insane  eagerness  to  touch  the 
shore.  Colonel  Mulford  is  hailed  with  as  loud  a  cheer  as  we 
are  capable  of  giving,  and  soon  the  plank  is  run  out  for  us 
to  debark.  The  survival  of  the  fittest  is  in  order,  and  those 
who  are  the  best  preserved  come  to  the  front.  Instead,  how 
ever,  of  our  getting  off  in  the  hit-or-miss  order  characteristic 
of  a  Sunday-school  picnic,  we  are  obliged  to  get  in  line,  that 
we  may  be  counted  for  the  last  time  in  the  Confederacy.  For 
months  I  had  been  only  a  numeral.  Every  day  somebody  had 
counted  me,  and  I  would  have  been  missed  as  one  less  if  I 
had  disappeared,  but  in  no  other  way.  No  enemy  had  taken 
my  name  nor  apparently  cared  for  it.  Now  I  was  about  to 
recover  my  identity,  to  be  something  more  than  a  mathemati 
cal  fact.  I  leave  the  vessel  the  eighteenth  man,  and  Brutus- 
like  I  could  have  embraced  the  earth  upon  which  I  trod.  With 
one  accord  we  tried  to  do  justice  to  our  liberation  by  vociferous 
shouting,  but  here,  too,  we  fail.  Though  we  had  used  our  voices 
during  our  imprisonment,  it  was  in  no  boisterous  manner,  and 
we  were  quite  unequal  to  the  occasion.  Instead  of  the  bold, 
manly  tones  of  old,  we  found  our  voices  dwindled  to  childish 
trebles  and  our  utterances  scarcely  more  than  chicken  peeps. 

Near  by  are  ambulances  for  the  conveyance  of  those  who 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  359 

can  not  walk,  and  they  are  many.    Can  I  walk?    Yes,  to  Wash 
ington,  if  necessary,  if  it  only  be  northward,  but  I  have  over 
rated  my  strength.    The  sight  of  friendly  faces  and  the  breath 
of  freedom  have  intoxicated  me,  and  I  am  not  conscious  of  my 
own  weakness.      Three   miles   intervene   between  us  and  the 
vessel  that  is  to  take  us  homeward.    We  set  our  faces  with 
much  determination  towards  Varina,  where  we  are  to  be  re 
ceived.    Weariness  is  an  absurdity.    But  Dame  Nature  tolerates 
no  nonsense.    She  is  not  enthusiastic.    Legs  that  have  had  no 
other  sustenance  than  that  afforded  by  scanty  rations  of  corn 
dodger  for  long  months  soon  weaken.    We  effervesce  quickly, 
and  the  distance  at  first  so  insignificant  grows  to  a  long  and 
tedious  march.    Many  could  not  make  it  and  had  to  be  picked 
up  by  the  ambulances.    However,  the  end  comes  at  last,  and 
as  we  rise  a  little  hillock  and  see  the  reception  provided  for 
us,  tears  start  from  many  an  eye.    It  is  the  22d  of  February, 
Washington's  birthday,  and  all  the  bunting  that  the  military 
and  shipping  possessed  was  flung  to  the  breezes.    What  a  sight 
for  flag-hungry  eyes!    To  my  mind  there  is  nothing  lacking  in 
the  way  of  beauty  in  the  American  flag.     Poets  and  orators 
have  descanted  upon  its  glories,  but  they  have  never  done  it 
justice,  simply  because  it  is  impossible.     There  are  thoughts 
in  the  soul  too  sublime  for  utterance,  and  such  I  think  must 
be  those  of  a  man  whom    necessity    has    separated  from  his 
country  for  a  time,  and  to  whose  view  comes  suddenly  the  em 
blem  of  all  that  the  patriot  holds  dear,  that  for  which  he  would 
offer  up  his  life  if  necessary.     To  add  to  the  pleasures  of  the 
hour  a  mounted  band,  said  to  be  from  Massachusetts,  was  play 
ing  national  airs.    It  was  a  greeting  long  to  be  remembered. 
Red,  white  and  blue  in  color  harmonized  perfectly  with  the 
same  in  sound.  "The  Star  Spangled  Banner"  from  brazen  throats 
was  wafted  back  by  gaudy  pennons,  whose  brilliant  hues  flashed 
from  every  mast,  and  rainbow-like  encircled  ship  and  cordage. 
"Man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone"  was  uttered  long  ago,  and 
its  truth  is  not  disputed.     Equally  true  is  its  converse  that 
man  can  not  live  on  sentiment.    For  us,  those  vessels  contained 
good  honest  food  and  we  knew  it,  and  we  stood  not  on  the 
order  of  our  going  as  we  approached  them.    We  were  a  hard 
looking    lot.       Ragged  beyond    description,  and  as  filthy    as 
ragged.    Long  contact  with  the  floors  of  our  prison-houses  had 
not  kept  our  garments  over  nice.    Hunger  was  evident  in  every 


360  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

look  and  movement.  It  was  no  trifling  task  to  feed  such  a 
herd.  Now  that  we  were  so  near  something  to  eat,  it  seemed 
as  if  we  must  famish  before  food  could  be  furnished  to  us.  A 
waiter  at  the  tables  of  the  officers  goes  through  our  midst  with 
a  pail  of  refuse,  intending  to  throw  it  overboard.  He  is  at  once 
set  upon  by  hungry  men  who  would  rob  the  pail  of  its  contents, 
to  such  an  insane  pitch  has  their  hunger  risen.  It  is  only  by 
main  force  that  he  breaks  through  the  crowd  and  throws  away 
the  filth,  saluted,  however,  by  a  perfect  howl  of  rage  from  the 
disappointed  prisoners,  who  manifest  a  disposition  to  throw 
him  over  along  with  the  garbage. 

"Fall  in  for  rations,"  is  the  most  welcome  remark  that  we 
have  heard  in  many  a  day,  and  it  needs  no  repetition,  for  we 
are  there  immediately.  Four  hardtack  each,  a  small  piece  of 
boiled  salt  pork  and  a  quart  of  coffee  were  the  items  given  us, 
it  being  presumed  that  in  our  enfeebled  condition  a  greater 
quantity  would  be  harmful;  but  I  had  gauged  my  stomach 
differently,  and  I  was  certain  that  small  amount  would  not 
do  for  me.  It  was  an  easy  matter  to  receive  my  portion  and 
then  slipping  around  to  another  point  get  a  second  share.  I 
doubled  the  rations  of  hard  bread  and  pork,  and  after  stowing 
all  this  away  where  it  was  safe,  I  wrapped  an  old  bed  cover 
that  I  had  found  about  me  and  sought  my  couch  for  the  night, 
said  couch  being  the  deck  of  the  vessel.  Were  my  dreams  pleas 
ant?  No  follower  of  the  advice  in  Thanatopsis  ever  laid  him 
self  down  to  happier  sleep. 

Our  ship  was  the  "George  Leary/'  and  when  I  went  to  sleep 
she  was  quietly  flying  her  colors  at  her  dock  called  Varina. 
When  I  awoke  she  was  well  on  her  way  to  Annapolis.  There 
was  little  to  vary  the  monotony  of  eating  and  sleeping  till  we 
reached  Annapolis,  which  was  on  the  morning  of  February  24th. 

We  leave  our  floating  quarters  and  file  through  the  grounds 
of  the  United  States  Naval  School,  and  are  soon  drawn  up  be 
fore  the  headquarters  in  College  Green  Barracks.  This  depot 
was  thus  named  from  its  occupying  the  back  premises  of  St. 
John's  College,  an  Episcopal  institution,  whose  most  famous 
graduate,  I  was  repeatedly  told  while  in  Annapolis,  was  Eev- 
erdy  Johnson,  for  many  years  a  distinguished  member  of  the 
United  States  Senate  from  Maryland.  There  was  a  curious 
company  of  paroled  men  standing  by  to  greet  us.  Much  to  my 
surprise  some  one  from  the  throng  called  out,  "Is  that  you, 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  361 

Roe?"  I  had  to  confess  that  it  was  Roe,  or  what  was  left  of 
him.  My  saluter  was  one  Schiffer,  a  member  of  the  5th  New 
York  Cavalry,  and  a  fellow  worker  of  mine  in  the  disbursing 
office  at  Auburn,  N.  Y.  After  handshakes  and  mutual  inquiries 
as  to  how  we  got  there,  he  asks  me  if  I  am  hungry.  To  this 
I  have  only  to  tell  him  to  look  at  me.  It  is  enough.  He  dis 
appears  only  to  reappear  with  a  whole  loaf  of  bread,  a  huge 
piece  of  boiled  beef,  and  two  big  cucumber  pickles.  To  divide 
my  prizes  with  my  nearest  neighbor,  Charlie  Cater,  is  the  work 
of  a  moment.  Another  moment  suffices  to  get  rid  of  the  food, 
at  any  rate  of  all  external  indications.  Schiffer  continues  his 
kind  offices  by  asking  me  if  I  wouldn't  like  some  money.  To  this 
proposition  I  am  nothing  loth,  and  a  couple  of  dollars  are  speed 
ily  transferred  from  him  to  me.  Before  breaking  ranks  we  are 
furnished  with  certain  necessary  utensils  and  told  when  and 
where  to  get  our  rations;  but  I  was  too  hungry  to  wait  for  any 
cook-house  signal,  so  as  quickly  as  possible  I  made  my  way  to  the 
sutler's  and  invested  in  about  a  foot  of  Bologna  sausage  and  a 
dozen  ginger  cookies.  With  these  I  proceeded  to  the  quarters 
assigned  me  and  there  endeavored  again  to  satisfy  my  hunger. 
I  had  not  more  than  eaten  this  last  supply  when  the  bugle 
summoned  us  to  the  cook-house  for  food.  I  took  my  quart  cup 
for  coffee  and  another  for  bean  soup.  My  cups  were  filled, 
whatever  my  own  condition  was.  It  was  not  till  I  had  done 
justice  to  this  last  installment  that  I  began  to  be  at  all  satisfied. 
I  may  as  well  state  right  here  that  hunger  to  the  recently 
paroled  prisoner  was  like  the  thirst  ascribed  to  the  drunkard, 
absolutely  insatiable.  To  paraphrase  the  words  of  the  hymn, 
we  ate,  but  ever  more  were  hungry.  Many  a  man  lost  his  life 
through  indiscretion  in  eating.  I  must  think  that  I  owed  my 
own  life  to  the  fact  that  my  stomach  was  tolerably  new,  and 
so  far  as  I  was  concerned,  had  been  pretty  well  used,  i.  e.,  I 
had  never  abused  it  by  excesses  of  any  sort.  The  middle-aged 
men  and  those  who  had  been  hard  drinkers  found  the  new 
ordeal  a  very  severe  one.  As  I  regard  the  matter  now,  I  wonder 
what  I  did  with  so  much  food,  but  it  was  no  wonder  to  me 
then.  The  fifty-seven  dollars  of  half  ration  money  paid  to  me 
at  the  barracks  was  nearly  all  expended  in  what  I  called  get 
ting  even  with  time.  If  this  was  money  for  food  that  I  had  not 
eaten,  then  I  clearly  owed  it  to  myself  to  eat  its  value  as  soon 
as  possible.  It  was  not  till  months  afterward  that  the  un- 


362  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

natural  craving  for  food  wore  away.  To  anticipate  a  little, 
when  I  reached  home  my  appetite  was  at  high-water  mark,  and 
I  became  the  great  wonder  of  the  neighborhood.  I  could  not 
wait  for  breakfast  before  beginning  to  eat;  a  luncheon  in  the 
forenoon  was  always  necessary;  my  dinner  was  a  hearty  one, 
and  there  had  to  be  a  filling  in  time  long  before  supper,  and 
after  that  usually  final  meal,  I  found  it  desirable  to  take  a 
parting  mouthful  before  retiring.  Chinking,  so  to  speak,  was 
had  constantly  in  the  way  of  pop-corn  and  apples.  I  lived 
through  it;  many  didn't. 

After  we  had  time  to  attend  to  the  demands  of  hunger,  our 
very  careful  supervisors  ordered  us  to  the  bath-house,  where 
we  were  stripped  of  every  rag  of  apparel  and  subjected  to  a 
most  thorough  scrubbing  with  hot  water  and  soap.  The  cast- 
off  clothing  was  piled  up  like  a  small  hill  outside  of  the  build 
ing.  In  my  haste  and  happiness  to  get  rid  of  my  old  prison 
reminders,  I  failed  to  take  from  my  pocket  the  remainder  of 
the  money  that  my  comrade,  Schiffer,  had  loaned  me.  When 
my  loss  occurred  to  me  it  was  too  late  to  remedy  it,  for  a  long 
and  diligent  search  among  the  filthy  cast-off  rags  availed  me 
nothing.  In  a  pile  of  several  thousand  United  States  garments 
he  would  be  a  wise  man  who  could  recognize  his  own  breeches. 

At  the  instigation  of  Schiffer,  I  remained  a  few  days  at  the 
college  barracks  to  assist,  but  I  found  that  my  long  lack  of 
familiarity  with  the  pen  had  served  to  make  me  almost  a  child 
again,  so  I  was  of  little  use  in  the  office.  I  was  too  weak  for  the 
room  where  clothing  was  dealt  out.  Besides,  I  knew  that  away 
up  north  a  family  was  wondering  where  the  oldest  boy  was, 
and  the  tugs  at  my  heart-strings  were  stronger  than  I  could 
resist.  I  might  linger  here  to  tell  of  the  fun  that  those  who 
were  regularly  detached  had  at  their  quarters;  of  the  quaint 
and  queer  tricks  they  played;  of  the  surroundings  of  the  bar 
racks;  but  these  items  would  not  have  sufficient  bearing  on  my 
story.  I  managed  to  see  something  of  the  city,  famous  in  our 
national  annals.  I  sat  in  the  very  room  where  Washington 
stood  when  he  resigned  his  commission  as  commander  of  the 
Revolutionary  armies,  and  I  crawled  to  the  very  top  of  the 
State  House.  I  actually  went  up  on  hands  and  knees,  because 
my  legs  failed  me  in  the  stair-climbing  business. 

Concluding  that  my  duty  called  me  home  at  the  earliest  mo 
ment  possible,  I  asked  for  a  transferral  to  parole  camp.  This 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  363 

was  located  some  three  or  four  miles  west  of  the  city  and  had 
accommodations  for  several  thousand  men.  Eating  and  talk 
ing  over  late  hardships,  along  with  the  comparing  of  notes 
with  men  from  other  prisons,  formed  our  chief  occupation  here. 
My  furlough  and  my  departure  come  speedily,  and  happily  I 
make  my  way  to  Baltimore,  and  thence  by  the  Northern  Cen 
tral  railroad  I  journey  homeward.  The  only  incident  of  this 
trip  worthy  of  mention,  is  the  stopping  for  dinner  in  Williams- 
port,  Penn.  There  was  a  great  throng  at  the  restaurant,  and 
before  I  could  get  to  the  table  the  bell  rang  for  us  to  go  aboard 
the  cars.  What  was  I  to  do?  I  had  paid  my  dollar  and  a  half 
— dinners  cost  something  in  those  days — and  had  not  had  a 
mouthful.  My  old  haversack  was  at  my  side.  It  would  hold 
everything  but  coffee.  I  resolved  to  put  it  to  the  test.  Accord 
ingly  I  made  my  way  to  the  table  regardless  of  ceremony,  and 
procured  a  cup  of  coffee,  which  I  drank  at  once.  Then,  opening 
the  wide  mouth  of  my  haversack,  I  tumbled  in  everything  that 
I  could  reach.  Bread,  meat  of  all  descriptions,  vegetables  as  I 
could  find  them,  till  the  well-filled  interior  of  the  bag  reminded 
me  that  I  must  have  my  money's  worth.  This  was  not  done  ou 
the  sly,  Til  assure  you,  for  I  was  the  observed  of  all  observers, 
receiving  from  them  hearty  cheers  while  I  was  filling  up.  The 
supply  was  ample  for  me  even,  clear  up  to  my  reaching  home. 
It  was  on  this  trip  that  a  fellow  passenger  indulged  in  the 
profanity  alluded  to  in  a  former  paper,  over  a  piece  of  my 
ration  preserved  from  Danville. 

Reaching  Elmira  late  at  night,  and  having  to  leave  early  in 
the  morning,  I  enter  a  saloon  and  solicit  the  privilege  of  spread 
ing  my  blanket  on  the  floor  for  a  few  hours,  a  favor  readily 
granted.  This  is  no  hardship  for  me,  since  I  am  used  to  a  bed 
on  the  floor.  The  unceasing  din  of  noisy  drinkers  does  not 
disturb  me  in  the  least.  At  the  proper  hour  I  took  the  train 
for  Watkins,  and  went  by  boat  to  Geneva  on  the  old  New  York 
Central  railroad.  As  I  wandered  over  the  boat  I  was  not  a 
little  pleased  to  find  it  the  very  one  in  which  I  had  journeyed 
southward  a  year  before.  I  knew  it,  for  written  on  the  smoke 
stack  was  my  own  name,  placed  there,  boy-like,  by  myself.  1 
felt  as  if  I  had  found  an  old  friend. 

The  great  throbbing  engine  can  not  bear  me  swiftly  enough, 
now  that  I  am  on  my  homeward  way.  Eastward  we  fly, 
through  Syracuse,  Rome,  Utica,  till  finally  I  am  deposited  in 


364  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Herkimer,  whence  I  am  to  make  my  trip  by  foot  to  Middleville. 
six  miles  further  north.  My  entire  way  is  along  the  bank  of  the 
West  Canada  creek,  whose  waters  some  miles  above  form  the 
famous  Trenton  Falls,  but  I  am  not  just  now  aesthetically  in 
clined.  I  am  going  home  as  fast  as  my  strength  will  admit. 
Of  course  I  should  have  gone  to  a  stable  and  hired  a  convey 
ance,  but  again  I  overrated  my  powers  of  endurance.  I  had 
walked  this  same  road  repeatedly  before,  and  why  not  now! 
I  had  progressed  only  a  little  wTay  when  it  became  painfully 
apparent  that  I  could  not  hold  out.  Accordingly  I  called  at 
the  next  house  and  asked  the  farmer  if  I  could  hire  him  to  carry 
me  to  Middleville.  This  he  consented  to  do  for  a  dollar  and  a  half. 
Snugly  ensconced  in  a  sleigh  with  plenty  of  buffalo  robes  about 
me,  I  made  the  remainder  of  the  journey  comfortably. 

Reaching  the  village,  I  dismiss  my  driver  as  soon  as  I  arrive 
in  sight  of  the  lighted  windows  in  the  parsonage.  It  is  more 
than  a  year  since  I  saw  the  interior  of  that  house,  and  eight 
months  since  I  have  heard  from  any  of  its  occupants.  What 
changes  may  not  have  taken  place  in  that  interval!  Is  it  any 
wonder  that  I  do  not  wish  any  outsider  to  witness  the  meet 
ing?  The  curtains  are  down,  so  I  get  no  revelation  as  I  ap 
proach.  Drawing  the  cape  of  my  overcoat  above  my  head  I 
advance  to  the  door  and  knock.  Soon  a  step  approaches.  I 
think  it  that  of  my  father.  The  door  opens  and  father  stands 
before  me.  The  soldier  coat  for  a  moment  confuses  him,  but 
it  is  for  a  moment  only,  for  he  speedily  exclaims,  "Why,  my 
son,"  and  grasps  me  warmly  by  the  hand.  By  this  time  I 
have  entered  the  room,  where  mother  takes  me  to  her  heart  as 
only  a  mother  can.  My  sister  disputes  with  her  the  possession 
of  my  head  and  shoulders,  a  seven-year-old  brother  is  hugging 
for  dear  life  the  lower  part  of  my  body;  but  through  all  this 
I  am  sensible  there  is  something  lacking.  My  anxious  look  is 
detected.  My  eyes  have  indicated  what  my  tongue  dare  not 
utter.  My  brother,  just  in  his  teens,  is  missing.  Mother,  whose 
hair  has  silvered  rapidly  during  my  absence,  says,  "You  are 
looking  for  Mort"  This  was  and  is  the  home  name  of  Morti 
mer,  the  playmate  of  my  boyhood.  "He  is  not  at  home  now. 
He  has  secured  a  place  to  work  in  Auburn."  What  a  sigh  of 
relief  I  drew,  for  I  feared  that  the  vacancy  indicated  that  the 
boy  at  home  had  succumbed  to  that  which  his  soldier  brother 
had  escaped.  A  telegram  speedily  summons  him,  and  ere  many 


PRISONERS    OF    WAR.  365 

hours  the  family  is  reunited.  Of  the  comparing  of  notes,  of  the 
battles  fought  over,  of  the  rejoicings  that  home  was  found, 
why  take  your  time  to  tell?  They  are  in  the  lives  and  experi 
ences  of  every  listener  who  went  to  the  war  and  then  came 
back  to  his  home  again. 

Perhaps,  however,  I  shall  never  have  a  better  opportunity  to 
say  a  word  about  those  who  saw  the  home  side  of  the  war. 
We  who  went  down  to  the  strife,  carried  the  guns,  and  as  we 
thought  then  endured  all  the  hardships,  knew  nothing  of  the 
terrible  anxiety  of  those  whom  we  left  behind  us.  The  great 
majority  of  the  rank  and  file  were  irresponsible  boys  who  were 
fairly  happy  when  their  stomachs  were  full  and  the  marches 
were  not  too  long.  Of  what  a  father's  sensations  might  be  I 
had  not  the  slightest  notion  till  long  after  the  din  was  over. 
The  older  men  of  our  comrades  did  not  receive  from  us  the 
consideration  that  I  now  think  was  their  due.  They  were  fre 
quently  laughed  at  as  blue  and  gloomy,  when  all  of  us  would 
have  been  just  the  same  had  we  had  equal  responsibilities.  But 
young  and  old  we  had  the  consolation  of  action.  The  march, 
the  bivouac,,  the  fight,  all  these  served  to  distract  the  mind 
and  prevent  its  dwelling  on  thoughts  which  brought  heaviness. 
Not  so  in  the  home.  There  a  never  wanting  sense  of  loneliness 
abode.  The  one  absent  in  body  was  ever  present  in  mind. 
The  danger  to  which  he  was  exposed  was,  if  possible,  magnified 
till  the  anxious  soul  fairly  consumed  itself  in  its  ceaseless  vigils. 
Every  report  of  new  movements  at  the  seat  of  war  brought 
with  it  the  wonder  whether  the  dear  one  would  be  endangered, 
and  of  these  contemplated  movements  those  at  home  knew 
vastly  more  than  did  we  ourselves,  who  were  actors  in  the 
drama.  How  the  papers  were  read!  The  popular  newspaper 
era  in  this  country  may  be  said  to  date  from  the  days  of  the 
war,  when  the  correspondent  learned  what  the  people  wanted 
for  news.  Was  there  a  battle!  With  what  feverish  haste  the 
paper  was  devoured,  dreading,  fearing,  lest  the  name  dearest 
of  all  may  appear  among  the  fatalities. 

A  father  enters  the  home  with  a  copy  of  the  New  York  Herald 
in  his  trembling  hand.  The  wife  and  mother  who  had  watched 
for  his  return  knows  that  he  brings  sad  news.  The  corps  to 
wrhich  their  boy  belongs  they  know  has  been  designated  for  a 
perilous  task,  and  this  paper  tells  the  story  of  the  fight  and  of 
the  casualties.  The  father  can  not  trust  himself  to  speak,  but 


366  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

he  points  to  one  name  among  the  missing,  and  then  betakes 
himself  to  his  closet  for  prayer,  his  refuge  in  every  hour  of  dis 
tress.  The  mother  reads  the  name  of  her  first  born  as  not 
accounted  for,  and  what  boots  all  the  rest?  Patriot  though  she 
is  to  her  heart's  core,  she  can  not  help  the  question,  "Is  the 
purchase  worth  the  price?'7  With  what  diligence  must  she 
pursue  her  household  duties  to  prevent  the  weight  of  her  ca 
lamity  crushing  her.  Anon,  she  searches  for  the  father,  and 
finds  him  with  his  Bible  in  hand  looking  for  comforting  pas 
sages.  His  hands  tremble  as  he  turns  the  leaves  of  the  well-read 
book,  and  here  and  there  he  finds  words  that  to  him  afford 
comfort.  He  has  preached  from  these  to  many  a  congregation 
when  their  dead  were  brought  home  to  them,  and  now  he  must 
face  the  dread  possibility.  Will  his  faith  shrink?  I  think 
not.  Through  those  eyes  a  long  line  of  patriotic  ancestry  is 
looking,  and  though  the  sacrifice  were  thrice  as  great  there 
would  be  no  faltering  with  him.  But  such  tests  bring  their 
inevitable  results  in  premature  age.  Many  a  boy  left  his  par 
ents  with  not  a  token  of  advancing  years  visible  in  them,  and 
after  a  few  months'  absence  returned  to  find  wrinkles  and  gray 
hairs  making  sad  inroads  on  his  parents'  faces.  During  the  fur 
lough  following  my  imprisonment,  it  was  my  pleasure  to  sit 
at  the  table  of  certain  aged  relatives  who  had  for  sundry  rea 
sons  always  possessed  an  unusual  regard  for  me.  Said  the 
gentleman,  "We  have  never  sat  at  this  board,  during  all  the 
months  of  your  being  with  the  rebels,  without  wishing  you 
might  have  some  of  the  food  before  us;  and  we  have  never 
knelt  at  the  family  altar  without  bearing  you  in  our  prayers 
to  the  throne  of  the  Heavenly  Grace."  Behind  the  most  of  us, 
who  imperiled  health  and  life,  there  were  just  such  prayers 
constantly  ascending,  and  whatever  our  own  lives,  we  were  not 
sorry  that  this  praying  contingent  was  ceaseless  in  its  activity. 
Our  battling  was  that  home  in  the  broadest  and  deepest 
sense  might  exist  in  all  this  fair  land;  that  no  nominal  owner 
might  separate  the  father  from  his  children,  a  wife  from  her 
husband.  Our  fight  was  a  winning  one,  and  with  the  end  of 
our  fighting  was  the  end  of  the  glaring  and  flaunting  lie  that 
one  man  could  hold  and  enslave  his  fellow  man.  Henceforth 
the  flag  that  we  had  followed  was  to  float  over  a  race  of  free 
men,  free  to  come  and  go,  free  to  make  and  hold,  what  I  have 
tried  to  picture  here,  a  Home. 


VETERAN  ASSOCIATION.  367 

CHAPTER     XXVII. 

VETERAN  ASSOCIATION  OF  THE  NINTH  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

For  more  than  twenty-five  years  annual  gatherings  of  the 
survivors  of  the  regiment  have  been  had.  It  is  claimed  that  the 
association  had  its  birth  in  a  camp  pitched  at  Briscoe's  Cove, 
on  the  southern  shore  of  Great  Sodus  bay,  August  26,  27  and  28, 
1874.  i 

This  meeting  had  been  decided  upon  at  a  preliminary  run- 
together  of  certain  veterans  of  the  regiment  held  in  Lyons 
March  4th,  1874.  Of  this  preparatory  meeting  Lieutenant  L. 
C.  Comstock  of  Auburn  was  the  secretary. 

The  camp  itself  was  a  great  success,  and  is  to  this  day  referred 
to  as  a  time  to  be  remembered.  So  successful  was  it  that  an 
enlargement  of  its  scope  was  determined  upon,  and  the  Wayne 
and  Cayuga  Veterans'  Association  was  formed,  which  for  many 
years  held  its  assemblies  on  the  shores  of  the  bay.  It  is  not  too 
much  to  state  that  no  similar  gatherings  in  the  Empire  State 
have  been  more  successful  than  those  drawn  to  this  beautiful 
portion  of  New  York.  They  have  commanded  speakers  from 
all  parts  of  the  country,  and  have  grown  to  be  affairs  looked 
forward  to  at  each  recurring  summer. 

The  reunions  of  the  Ninth  became  a  small  part  of  the  day's 
doings,  and  were  held  at  some  designated  hour  in  an  assigned 
tent,  the  same  course  being  observed  with  other  regiments 
from  this  section  of  the  state.  While  the  passing  hour  was  de 
lightful,  it  did  not  quite  measure  up  to  what  the  veterans 
thought  the  occasion  demanded,  and  each  year  there  was  a  de 
mand  for  a  reunion  elsewhere  where  the  regiment  should  be 
the  chief  consideration,  and  this  desired  end  eventually  came 
about. 

Records  are  preserved  of  the  gathering  in  the  tent  at  the 
county  camp  of  1888,  more  or  less  full.  In  that  year  Captain 
George  W.  Brinkerhoff  of  Company  A  presided,  and  J.  S.  Roys 
of  D  Company  was  secretary.  Remarks  were  made  by  Captain 
Chauncey  Fish  of  B;  G.  D.  Fox  of  A;  Lieutenant  C.  D.  Lent 
of  H;  L.  B.  Rice  of  B;  Lieutenant  Lewis  Barton  of  D;  A.  S. 
Roe  of  A;  H.  P.  Howard  of  H;  Frank  Tallman  of  E;  Thomas 
Hilliard  of  D,  and  others.  Officers  for  the  ensuing  year  in 
cluded:  President,  Lieutenant  C.  D.  Lent  of  Wallington,  and 


368  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Secretary,  J.  S.  Roys  of  Lyons.    This  meeting  was  held  August 
14,  at  4  P.  M. 

In  1889  the  meeting  came  August  15,  at  4  P.  M.,  with  the 
officers  elected  the  preceding  year.  Those  elected  for  1890  were 
B.  L.  Avery  of  Auburn,  president,  and  Frank  Tallman,  also  of 
Auburn,  secretary.  Interesting  addresses  were  made  by  Chap 
lain  S.  T.  Devoe,  L.  B.  Rice,  Captain  Fish,  and  others.  The 
drift  of  sentiment  was  decidedly  in  favor  of  a  reunion  on  some 
autumnal  day  where  the  regiment  might  have  the  time  to  itself. 

In  accordance  with  the  expressed  wish,  the  next  gathering  of 
the  regiment  was  in  Auburn,  and  the  list  of  annual  gatherings 
was  begun,  kept  up  regularly,  except  in  1892.  The  date  was  very 
fittingly  the  19th  of  October,  the  25th  anniversary  of  the  regi 
ment's  greatest  battle.  An  address  of  welcome  was  given  by 
General  William  H.  Seward,  which  has  been  highly  prized  in 
the  intervening  years,  it  having  been  printed  by  vote  of  the 
survivors  present.  The  officers  elected  at  the  summer  gather 
ing  held  over. 

In  1890,  October  17th,  in  the  armory  of  Auburn,  the  veterans 
gathered  again,  and  were  welcomed  by  Mayor  Wheeler,  and 
were  responded  for  by  General  Seward.  The  Rev.  Reuben  Bur 
ton,  former  lieutenant  in  Company  B,  gave  the  address.  Col 
onel  Anson  S.  Wood  was  elected  president,  and  Frank  Tallman 
was  continued  as  secretary,  an  office  which  he  has  continued  to 
fill  to  date.  There  is  little  doubt  that  the  success  of  the  asso 
ciation  is  due  in  no  small  degree  to  his  unflagging  zeal  in  trying 
to  reach  all  surviving  members  of  the  regiment.  Those  who 
cherish  the  memories  of  their  service  in  war-times  owe  very 
much  to  him. 

October  20th,  1891,  saw  the  reunion  held  in  Lyons,  Wayne 
county,  and  was  presided  over  by  President  A.  S.  Wood,  who 
was  re-elected  for  the  following  year.  On  account  of  the  G.  A. 
R.  encampment  in  Washington  the  coming  year,  it  was  decided 
to  skip  the  annual  meeting,  though  a  very  large  number  of 
the  veterans  came  together  in  the  Capital. 

In  1893,  October  19th,  again  the  men  came  to  Lyons  for  their 
annual  handshake  and  story-telling.  They  elected  John  Kevand 
of  Weedsport  president,  and  named  his  home-town  as  the  next 
place  of  meeting. 

At  the  Weedsport  meeting,  October  19th,  1894,  the  subject  of 
a  history  of  the  regiment  was  considered,  and  it  was  voted  to 


VETERAN  ASSOCIATION.  369 

invite  Alfred  S.  Roe  of  Worcester,  Mass.,  formerly  of  A  Com 
pany,  to  prepare  such  history,  he  having  on  this  occasion  read 
an  account  of  the  regiment's  part  in  the  Battle  of  Monocacy. 
Colonel  Anson  S.  Wood  was  elected  president,  and  Clyde  was 
assigned  as  place  of  meeting. 

The  Clyde  gathering,  October  18th,  1895,  was  large  and  en 
thusiastic,  with  addresses  from  the  president,  Hon.  Charles  T. 
Saxton,  and  others.  Major  George  W.  Brinkerhoff  was  chosen 
president,  with  Wolcott  as  the  next  assembly  place. 

Wolcott  people  did  themselves  proud  in  their  reception,  and 
congratulatory  remarks  were  made  by  different  speakers,  civil 
and  military.  The  date  was  September  17th,  1896,  pretty  near 
the  Winchester  date,  but  not  quite.  It  was  voted  to  meet  in 
Buffalo  Aug.  24th,  on  account  of  the  G.  A.  K.  encampment 
there  in  1897.  H.  W.  Vishion  of  Company  M,  a  resident  of 
Buffalo,  was  made  president. 

The  Buffalo  assembly  drew  together  men  who  had  not 
before  gathered  at  the  reunions,  along  with  the  many  who 
are  always  on  hand.  Though  way  beyond  the  precincts 
specially  devoted  to  the  Ninth,  the  meeting  was  an  excellent 
one.  W.  V.  Walker,  Company  L,  was  elected  president,  and 
Moravia,  his  home,  was  nominated  for  the  next  reunion. 

The  day  selected  for  1898  was  September  16th,  and  the  clans 
repaired  to  the  good  old  Cayuga  village  with  its  quaint  Ger 
man  name.  All  enjoyed  the  trip  and  made  A.  W.  Vanderbilt 
of  Newark,  Wayne  county,  the  coming  president,  and  named 
his  village  as  the  place,  the  date  to  be  October  19th,  1899,  and 
with  the  permission  of  Providence  the  gathering  will  take  place 
at  that  time  and  place. 

Secretary  Tallman,  with  his  accustomed  care,  has  retained 
the  number  of  those  attending  the  reunions,  and  the  following 
is  the  statement:  1889,  313;  1890,  225;  1891,  164;  1893,  207; 
1894,  218;  1895,  254;  1896,  210;  1897,  287;  1898,  143.  The  time 
is  rapidly  approaching  when  the  attendance  must  fall  off  meas 
urably,  for  many  are  nearing  an  age  when  distance  does  not 
lend  enchantment. 

The  democratic  character  of  the  assemblies  has  given  them  a 
great  popularity.  The  women  friends  of  the  veterans  are  al 
ways  welcomed,  and  they  are  among  the  most  interested  listen 
ers  of  the  proceedings,  which  are  usually  of  a  reminiscent  char 
acter.  The  citizens  of  the  towns  where  the  reunions  are  held 
24 


370  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

have,  as  a  rule,  thrown  open  their  homes  and  hearts  and  given 
the  warmest  reception  possible.  To  the  younger  and  rising 
generation  these  gatherings  have  been  excellent  object  lessons, 
keeping  fresh  in  mind  the  sacrifices  made  that  they  might  enjoy 
the  blessings  of  liberty. 

When  the  line  is  formed  and  the  old  "boys"  with  whitening 
locks  and  aging  forms  follow  their  drummers  of  long  ago,  it  is 
a  sight  to  arouse  the  admiration  and  emulation  of  younger  men, 
and  who  can  tell  how  wide-reaching  the  lesson  may  be?  Usu 
ally,  General  Seward  is  present,  and  he  leads  his  men  as  he  did 
of  old,  though  no  one  bears  a  weapon  heavier  than  a  cane. 

As  far  as  known  the  following  list  includes  the  names  of  all  surviv 
ing  members  of  the  regiment  with  their  post  office  addresses. 

FIELD   OFFICERS. 

Brigadier  General  William  H.  Seward,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 
Colonel  James  W.  Snyder,  Guthrie,  Oklahoma. 
Brevet  Lieutenant  Colonel  William  Wood,  Westbury,  N.  Y. 
Brevet  Lieutenant  Colonel  Anson  S.  Wood,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 
Brevet  Lieutenant  Colonel  Sullivan  B.  Lamoreaux,  Cleveland, 

Ohio. 

Major  William  Riley  Wasson,  Dublin,  Texas. 
Surgeon  Dwight  S.  Chamberlain,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 
Assistant  Surgeon  Byron  Dewitt,  Oswego,  N.  Y. 
Quartermaster  Henry  P.  Knowles,  Palmyra,  N.  Y. 
Quartermaster  John  W.  Eice,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 
Adjutant  W.  DeW.  Pringle,  Hastings,  Minn. 
Adjutant  Vincent  A.  Kenyon,  Dresserville,  N.  Y. 
Chaplain  Stephen  T.  Devoe,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 
Sergeant  Major  John  E.  Dean,  Newark,  Ohio. 
Hospital  Steward  John  F.  Failing,  Grand  Rapids,  Mich. 

COMPANY  A. 

Allen,  G.  W.,  Callispell,  Montana. 
Arne,  William,  Alpena,  South  Dakota. 
Ayler,  Jacob,  Corning,  N.  Y. 
Bancroft,  Samuel  E.,  Westbury,  N.  Y. 
Barber,  William,  Red  Creek,  N.  Y. 
Barber,  George,  Red  Creek,  N.  Y. 
Barnett,  Harrison,  Early  Bird,  Florida. 
Becker,  Jeremiah,  Quincy,  Mich. 
Bigelow,  N.  V.,  North  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 
Billings,  John,  Sodus  Point,  N.  Y. 
Blanchard,  C.  W.,  Victory,  N.  Y. 
Brinkerhoff,  Capt.  G.  W.,  Red  Creek,  N.  Y. 
Brown,  G.,  Alton,  N.  Y. 


VETERAN  ASSOCIATION.  371 

Bull,  A.  H.,  Warren,  Ohio. 

Bull,  Henry,  North  Huron,  N.  Y. 

Carnes,  Edward  L.,  Battle  Greek,  Mich. 

Carter,  George,  King's  Ferry,  N.  Y. 

Casterline,  J.  B.,  Wautoma,  Wis. 

Conklin,  Lieut.  Benson,  Bay  City,  Mich. 

Cortright,  Chester,  Bed  Creek,  N.  Y. 

DeMott,  Lewis,  Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y. 

Derby,  Albert,  Akron,  Colo. 

Dudley,  Henry,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Dyer,  David  H.,  Watervliet,  N.  Y. 

Easton,  Charles,  Grand  Bapids,  Mich. 

Easton,  David,  S.  &  S.  Home,  Bath,  N.  Y. 

Elmendorf,  Lieut.  J.  C.,  Weedsport,  N.  Y. 

Elmer,  Jno.  E.,  Fair  Haven,  N.  Y. 

Fields,  N.  J.,  North  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Fitch,  Cyrus  E.,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Foster,  John,  23  Elm  street,  Bochester,  N.  Y. 

Fox,  G.  D.,  East  Bloomfield,  N.  YJ 

Frost,  Oscar,  Bed  Creek,  N.  Y. 

Gibbs,  William,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Green,  Luther,  Westbury,  N.  Y. 

Hall,  A.  F.,  Savannah,  N.  Y. 

Hall,  A.  S.,  Savannah,  N.  Y.    ' 

Harvey,  Lieut.  T.,  S.,  216  Seymour  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Higgins,  Charles,  Montezuma,  N.  Y. 

Hoff,  Lieut.  J.  K.,  Milwaukee,  Wis.      i 

Hoffman,  W.  P.,  West  Somerset,  N.  Y. 

Humphrey,  Enos,  Fair  Haven,  N.  Y. 

Hyde,  Capt.  James  H.,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Johnson,  Morris,  Saranac,  Mich. 

King,  George,  Fair  Haven,  N.  Y. 

Koon,  Alonzo,  Westbury,  N.  Y. 

McDougall,  D.,  Fair  Haven,  N.  Y. 

McWiggin,  P.,  North  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Mead,  Joseph  H.,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Merrill,  James  A.,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Merrill,  W.  H.,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Mitchell,  William,  Macedon,  N.  Y. 

Moore,  George  C.,  210  West  Henry  street,  Elmira,  N.  Y. 

Neal,  Jonathan,  Fair  Haven,  N.  Y. 

Nichols,  M.  B.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.,  Box  806. 

Palmer,  Thomas,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Pettingill,  John,  North  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Pettit,  Martin  D.,  Lummisville,  N.  Y. 

Porter,  L.,  Alton,  N.  Y. 

Rawson,  Charles,  Germania,  Pa. 

Riggs,  Henry,  North  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Rhinehart,  W.  H.,  North  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 


372  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Roe,  Alfred  S.,  Worcester,  Mass. 
Sampson,  E.  F.,  Red  Creek,  N.  Y. 
Shaft,  Milton,  Martville,  N.  Y. 
Sherman,  Charles  H.,  College  Mound,  Mo. 
Snow,  Samuel,  North  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 
Sprague,  A.  I.,  Weedsport,  N.  Y. 
Stinard,  A.  L.,  Geneva,  Mich. 
Streeter,  Melvin,  North  Huron,  N.  Y. 
Thomas,  Philip,  Huron,  N.  Y. 
Townsend,  David,  Denver,  Colo. 
Tripp,  M.  F.,  Salamanca,  N.  Y. 
Ullrich,  Charles,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 
Vanderburg,  James,  Lummisville,  N.  Y. 
Van  Horn,  John,  North  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 
Van  Ostrand,  C.  S.,  Newark,  N.  Y. 
Watkins,  Carlton,  Onondaga  Valley,  N.  Y. 
Welch,  W.  A.,  Oto,  Woodbury  county,  Iowa. 
Wendover,  James,  Port  Byron,  N.  Y. 
Whitbeck,  John  W.,  Watkins,  N.  Y. 

COMPANY  B. 

This  company  formed  a  local  association  before  that  of  the  regiment 
and  has  held  many  interesting  meetings,  at  which  valuable  papers 
have  been  read,  but  no  data  are  at  hand  as  to  organization,  etc. 

Allen,  A.  H.,  Charlotte,  Mich. 

Arney,  S.,  Fairport,  N.  Y. 

Babbett,  Francis,  Pultneyville,  N.  Y. 

Birdsall,  William,  Ontario,  N.  Y. 

Bishop,  E.  A.,  12  Manhattan  street,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Bradley,  J.  H.,  Williamson,  N.  Y. 

Brock,  C.  J.,  321  West  avenue,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Buck,  James  WT.,  Campbell,  N.  Y. 

Calhoun,  D.  D.,  Westbury,  N.  Y. 

Carey,  Orin,  Ontario  Centre,  N.  Y. 

Chapman,  Grosvenor  E.,  Lansing,  Mich. 

Chapman,  Ralph  D.,  West  Walworth,  N.  Y. 

Clark,  James  E.,  Owen  Sound,  Canada. 

Denney,  Loren,  Ontario,  N.  Y. 

Diver,  J.  B.,  222  C  street,  S.  E.,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Elmer,  Frank  M.,  West  Walworth,  N.  Y. 

Fenner,  Nelson,  1809  Beverly  street,  Richmond,  Va. 

Foote,  Harvey,  Ontario,  N.  Y. 

Fish,  Capt.  Chauncey,  Ontario,  N.  Y. 

Fitts,  N.  A.,  756  Powers  building,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Franklin,  Benjamin,  20  High  street,  Bradford,  Pa. 

Franklin,  Joshua,  20  High  street,  Bradford,  Pa. 

Frost,  L.  B.,  Lincoln,  N.  Y. 


VETERAN  ASSOCIATION.  373 

Gamble,  D.  P.,  East  Palmyra,  N.  Y. 

Gilbert,  G.  W.,  Heckling,  Clay  county,  South  Dakota. 

Hall,  John,  Lincoln,  N.  Y. 

Hoag,  Lieut.  F.  J.,  2154  Lawrence  avenue,  Toledo,  Ohio. 

Hoag,  Hiram  C.,  West  Walworth,  N.  Y. 

Hoag,  J.  M.,  Maquoketa,  Iowa. 

Holtom,  Frank,  Furnaceville,  N.  Y. 

King,  John  H.,  125  Fourth  street,  Jackson,  Mich. 

Levarne,  Daniel,  New  Haven,  Vt. 

McDonnell,  Irving,  Flint,  Mich. 

Mack,  S.  R.,  Madison,  Mich. 

Mason,  James  O.,  Walworth,  N.  Y. 

Metzgar,  Dana,  Cortland,  N.  Y. 

Myers,  Frederick,  2152  South  14th  street,  Lincoln,  Neb. 

Negus,  John,  Sodus  Centre,  N.  Y. 

Niles,  E.  D.,  59  Lewis  street,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

O'Flynn,  William  H.,  Madoc,  Ontario,  Canada. 

Page,  Ebenezer,  Brockport,  N.  Y. 

Patterson,  Lieut.  C.  P.,  Walworth,  N.  Y. 

Peacock,  Harrison  F.,  Lincoln,  N.  Y. 

Peacock,  Oscar  F.,  Fairport,  N.  Y. 

Pease,  C.  W.,  58  Reynolds  street,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Perrin,  E.  B.,  Ontario,  N.  Y. 

Pratt,  A.  J.,  Webster,  N.  Y. 

Prentiss,  James  D.,  603  China  street,  Richmond,  Va. 

Reeves,  Stephen,  Marion,  N.  Y. 

Rice,  Lewis  B.,  Port  Huron,  Mich. 

Risley,  Charles  M.,  Ontario  Centre,  N.  Y. 

Rogers,  Eugene  O.,  Lincoln,  N.  Y. 

Rogers,  William,  334  West  Water  street,  Wichita,  Kan. 

Roys,  Gains  N.,  Newark,  N.  Y. 

Russell,  Elon,  Lincoln,  N.  Y. 

Sage,  J.,  Hudson,  Mich. 

Sanders,  Eugene,  Webster,  N.  Y. 

Shipman,  John,  Farmington  Hill,  Pa. 

Smith,  A.  L.,  6th  Auditor's  office,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Smith,  Jarvis  L.,  Williamson,  N.  Y. 

Smith,  Morris  M.,  Phillipsburg,  Kan. 

Speller,  J.  W.,  Ontario  Centre,  N.  Y. 

Stanford,  D.  J.,  Ontario,  N.  Y. 

Strickland,  Thomas  A.,  Charlotte  street,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Terwilliger,  Albert  E.,  Clayton,  Mich. 

Tucker,  E.  B.,  Monona,  Iowa. 

Vandewarker,  Abiel,  Union  Hill,  N.  Y. 

Vandewarker,  Samuel,  Union  Hill,  N.  Y. 

W^arren,  Charles.  Honeoye  Falls,  N.  Y. 

Warren,  Edwin,  Lima,  N.  Y. 

White,  A.  T.,  Macedon,  N.  Y. 

Whitmer,  John,  Fairville,  N.  Y. 

WToodhams,  Henry,  Union  Hill,  N.  Y. 


374  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

COMPANY  C. 

Bates,  Oliver,  Gains,  Pa. 

Betts,  Robert  D.,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Bills,  S.  L.,  Macedon,  N.  Y. 

Blakeman,  Hiram,  Emerson,  N.  Y. 

Blass,  Michael,  Conquest,  N.  Y. 

Blass,  Walter,  Spring  Lake,  N.  Y. 

Brooks,  Willam  G.,  Nashville,  Mich. 

Burke,  Giles  O.,  Jordan,  N.  Y. 

Burke,  Capt.  Marshall,  Paw  Paw,  Mich. 

Chapel,  Lieut.  George  E.,  Grand  Rapids,  Mich. 

Chapman,  A.  G.,  Westbury,  N.  Y. 

Clark,  George  P.,  Moravia,  N.  Y. 

Colborn,  John  F.,  Syracuse.  N.  Y. 

Crounse,  David,  Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y. 

Crounse,  David  J.,  Meadowdale,  Albany  county,  N.  Y. 

Crounse,  Jacob,  Conquest,  N.  Y. 

Demass,  Martin,  Ionia,  Mich. 

Donnelly,  John,  Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y. 

Edminster,  David,  Weedsport,  N.  Y. 

Fuller,  Henry,  Spring  Lake,  N.  Y. 

Fuller,  William,  Jordan,  N.  Y. 

Garity,  Frank,  Spring  Lake,  N.  Y. 

Hooker,  F.  E.,  Palmyra,  N.  Y. 

Hunt,  Ralph,  1221  Lee  street,  South  Evanston,  111. 

Hunter,  Irving,  Jordan,  N.  Y. 

Isler,  Benjamin,  Macedon,  N.  Y. 

James,  Job,  Onondaga  Hill,  N.  Y. 

Kilmer,  George,  New  Hope,  N.  Y. 

Knapp,  Lieut.  J.  D.,  Cato,  N.  Y. 

Lamphear,  Franklin  E.,  Waterloo,  N.  Y. 

Lockwood,  William  Henry,  Weedsport,  N.  Y. 

McGuire,  Frank,  Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y. 

Mclntyre,  Lieut.  W.  H.,  St.  Paul,  Minn. 

McNulty,  Lieut.  M.,  Onondaga  Hill,  N.  Y. 

Meade,  Jacob,  Southwest  Oswego,  N.  Y. 

Miller,  Austin,  Spring  Lake,  N.  Y. 

Miller,  Peter,  120  Whitney  street,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Morrison,  Isaac,  Marion,  N.  Y. 

Pierce,  W.  W.,  Seward,  Neb. 

Putnam,  Jacob  J.,  Hannibal,  N.  Y. 

Skinner,  Jerry,  Jordan,  N.  Y. 

Sly,  William  S.,  Fredonia,  N.  Y. 

Smith,  Wellington,  Macedon,  N.  Y. 

Spinning,  William  M.,  Jordan,  N.  Y. 

Stevenson,  David,  Ola,  Gratiot  county,  Mich. 

Strickland,  Leander,  Meridian,  N.  Y. 

Tifft,  Lieut.  James  W.,  40  Tracey  street,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 


VETERAN  ASSOCIATION.  375 

Vandervoort,  Martin  L.,  Kirby,  Monroe  county,  Wis. 
Westfall,  S.  J.,  99  Franklin  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

COMPANY   D. 

Baker,  H.  T.,  63  Richard  street,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Barton,  Lieut.  Lewis,  Grand  Ledge,  Mich. 

Berkley,  Frederick,  S.  and  S.  Home,  Bath,  N.  Y. 

Bourne,  Joseph,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

Boyst,  John,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

Bremer,  William,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Brown,  B.,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

Brundage,  Samuel,  Sodus,  N.  Y. 

Bullock,  Nathan,  Alton,  N.  Y. 

Burns,  George  E.,  Alton,  N.  Y. 

Button,  Elliott  H.,  734  East  Adams  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Clark,  D.  C.,  Wayne,  Schuyler  county,  N.  Y. 

Comstock,  John  L.,  Sac  City,  Iowa. 

Darling,  Martin,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Dunbar,  Lee,  Lummisville,  N.  Y. 

Dunn,  Homer  C.,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

Dunning,  E.  P.,  Forestville,  Chautauqua  county,  N.  Y. 

Ehart,  Michael,  17  Cleveland  street,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Finch,  Jno  T.,  Newark,  N.  Y. 

Genthner,  Jacob  F.,  27  Conkey  avenue,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Gunther,  Charles,  Lockport,  N.  Y. 

Hall,  C.  K.,  Baldwinsville,  N.  Y. 

Hall,  Hamilton,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Hanna,  James  P.,  437  William  street,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 

Hart,  John  W.,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

Hasselback,  Simon,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

Heck,  William,  Lummisville,  N.  Y. 

Hoeltzel,  George,  Newark,  N.  Y. 

Hoffman,  Lieut.  B.  F.,  Johnson's  Creek,  N.  Y. 

Houghkerk,  Silas,  87  Spring  street,  Albany,  N.  Y. 

Knox,  Charles,  Alton,  N.  Y. 

Kurtz,  Andrew,  S.  and  S.  Home,  Bath,  N.  Y. 

Leroy,  Isaac,  Fairville,  N.  Y. 

Lyon,  Capt.  C.  L.,  654  Bedford  avenue,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

McDowell,  Charles,  Alton,  N.  Y. 

McDowell,  David,  Alton,  N.  Y. 

Munn,  Hiram,  Ames,  Iowa. 

Newberry,  Eben  W.,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Parrish,  Norman  A.,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

Pflug,  Jacob,  Exeter,  Neb. 

Pomeroy,  G.  P.,  Chittenango,  N.  Y. 

Pudney,  Richard,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

Redgrave,  Lieut.  S.  C.,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

Rooker,  George,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 


376  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Boys,  J.  Sidney,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

Scott,  Cornelius,  Grand  Rapids,  Mich. 

Seager,  A.  W.,  Wayne  Centre,  N.  Y. 

Seager,  Benjamin,  Alton,  N.  Y. 

Shane,  Pearse,  1017  Lodi  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Siebert,  George,  Kalamazoo,  Mich. 

Snitzel,  John,  Orleans,  N.  Y. 

Snyder,  J.  L.,  Joy,  N.  Y. 

Spahr,  Casper,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Stell,  Fred,  Fairville,  N.  Y. 

Stewart,  Capt.  J.  F.,  Hannibal,  Mo. 

Taylor,  Henry,  Newark,  N.  Y. 

Taylor,  James  K.,  Port  Byron,  N.  Y. 

Travers,  William,  74  109th  street,  New  York  city. 

Vanderbilt,  A.  H.,  Newark,  N.  Y. 

Vickery,  J.  W.,  180  Market  street,  Chicago,  111. 

Walmsley,  Albert,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Warn,  Charles  S.,  Copac,  St.  Clair  county,  Mich. 

Williams,  J.  L.,  Sherrill,  N.  Y. 

Williams,  Lieut.  L.  D.,  Otsego,  Mich. 

Wilson,  Thomas,  Oneida,  N.  Y. 

Worden,  John  V.,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

York,  Thomas,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

Zwilling,  William,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

COMPANY  E. 

Arnold,  Benjamin  A.,  East  Venice.  N.  Y. 

Austin,  A.  P.,  North  Tonawanda,  N.  Y. 

Baker,  George,  Scipio,  N.  Y. 

Barnes,  Lieut.  B.  F.,  Moravia,  N.  Y. 

Bassett,  Joseph2  Skaneateles,  N.  Y. 

Bassett,  Thomas,  Owasco,  N.  Y. 

Benson,  Stephen  H.,  509  First  avenue,  Lansingburg,  N.  Y, 

Bradley,  Schuyler,  Lyons,  Ohio. 

Breed,  Chauncey,  Farwell,  Mich. 

Breed,  Frank  F.,  Flint,  Mich. 

Breed,  George,  Genoa,  N.  Y. 

Brewster,  James  H.,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Bronson,  F.  O.,  Osage,  Iowa. 

Brown,  Dwight,  Locke,  N.  Y. 

Brown,  E.  J.,  Moravia,  N.  Y. 

Buckley,  Benjamin,  Rowley,  Iowa. 

Bush,  Julius,  Atlantic  Highlands,  N.  J. 

Cannon,  Edwin  J.,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 

Cater,  Charles,  Weedsport,  N.  Y. 

Chaffee,  James,  301  Otisco  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

demons,  L.  E.,  Junction  City,  Kan. 

Clemons,  R.  E.,  Manhattan,  Kan. 


SECRETARY  FRANK  TALLMAN, 

9th  N.  Y.  H.  A.  Veteran  Association. 

COMPANY  E. 


VETERAN  ASSOCIATION.  377 

Cobb,  Alton  E.,  604  Court  street,  Scranton,  Pa. 

Corlies,  Charles  M.,  McLeansboro,  111. 

Covey,  Edwin,  518  Clay  street,  Portland,  Ore. 

Crowfoot,  Charles  F.,  Venice  Centre,  N.  Y. 

Culver,  Francis,  Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y. 

Defendorf,  Edwin,  Niles,  N.  Y. 

Dennis,  Dan.  D.,  Canisteo,  N.  Y. 

Dodd,  Elias,  Genoa,  N.  Y. 

Dolson,  C.,  Olean,  N.  Y. 

Eaton,  Augustus,  Sempronius,  N.  Y. 

Evans,  W.  H.,  74  Walnut  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Finney,  F.  H.,  Orange  City,  Fla. 

Flynn,  Francis,  Merrifield,  N.  Y. 

Forman,  Amos,  Sterling,  N.  Y. 

Foster,  John,  Berkshire,  N.  Y. 

Foster,  S.  M.,  Dryden,  N.  Y. 

Green,  A.  M.,  Hart  Lot,  N.  Y. 

Hardy,  George  H.,  Canisteo,  N.  Y. 

Hardy,  S.  B.,  Jasper,  N.  Y. 

Hardy,  William,  Eden  Valley,  Minn. 

Hough,  Lieut.  C.  W.,  Batavia,  N.  Y. 

Huff,  Edgar  D.,  Little  Valley,  N.  Y. 

Hutchinson,  Alpheus,  Moravia,  N.  Y. 

Hutchinson,  John,  Venice  Center,  N.  Y. 

Jacquett,  Sergt.  William,  Fleming,  N.  Y. 

Jones,  Amos  S.,  St.  Johns,  Mich. 

Keech,  Isaac  E.,  Hartford,  N.  Y.         i 

Landin,  Henry,  South  Butler,  N.  Y. 

Lansdown,  John,  Apulia,  N.  Y. 

Lavin,  Patrick,  Venice,  N.  Y. 

Leaven  worth,  Henry,  Newark,  West  Va. 

Lee,  Charles  H.,  2939  9th  avenue  south,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 

Lee,  John,  123  Brighton  avenue,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Leonard,  Elijah  T.,  Irvington,  N.  J. 

Lewis,  Stephen,  613  Jackson  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Litchard,  A.  W.,  Rushford,  N.  Y. 

Lyons,  John,  Fosterville,  N.  Y, 

Marshall,  William,  Skaneateles,  N.  Y. 

Morehouse,  Anson,  Fenton,  Mich. 

Myers,  Horace,  Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y. 

Neff,  Alex.,  Hartford,  N.  Y. 

Niles,  Delos,  Genoa,  N.  Y. 

Osier,  David,  S.  and  S.  Home,  Bath,  N.  Y. 

Parker,  H.  H.,  Oramel,  N.  Y. 

Pickens,  Warren,  Waterloo,  N.  Y. 

Richardson,  H.  H.,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Rogers,  Adelbert,  Sempronius,  N.  Y. 

Royce,  Frank,  Diamond,  Alameda  county,  Cal. 

Ryckman,  David,  Newark,  N.  Y. 


378  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Scott,  Wesley,  Fleming,  N.  Y. 

Seeley,  Seth  M.,  Onondaga  Hill,  N.  Y. 

Shevalier,  John,  Hartford,  N.  Y. 

Shorkley,  Pardon  T.,  Merrifield,  N.  Y. 

Smith,  Frank,  Cortland,  N.  Y. 

Suddick,  Richard,  Olean,  N.  Y. 

Swift,  Lieut.  Seth  F.,  38  Franklin  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Tallman,  Frank,  9J  State  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Tallman,  Fred  A.,  120  South  Salina  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Tallman,  Thomas  C.,  Scipio  Centre,  N.  Y. 

Tanner,  George,  Mies,  N.  Y. 

Tibbetts,  George,  Venice,  N.  Y. 

Tifft,  Capt.  John,  South  Lansing,  N.  Y. 

Van  Liew,  John,  Mapleton,  N.  Y. 

Waldron,  David,  Skaneateles,  N.  Y. 

Warwick,  Robert,  Fleming,  N.  Y. 

Wheeler,  Lieut.  Hiland  H.,  1517  H  street,  Lincoln,  Neb. 

White,  George  A.,  Table  Rock,  Neb. 

Woodmansee,  Nathan,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich. 

Wyckoff,  Henry  G.,  Niles,  N.  Y. 

COMPANY   F. 

Allen,  Titus.  Catlin  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Alfreds,  Henry,  Port  Byron,  N.  Y. 

Allen,  Henry,  Treasury  building,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Barnard,  F.  D.,  Weedsport,  N.  Y. 

Blake,  Jacob,  Lodi  and  Catherine  streets,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Bostler,  Conrad,  Weedsport,  N.  Y. 

Catlin,  S.  B.,'44  Capitol  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Chase,  Horace,  Skaneateles,  N.  Y. 

Close,  Charles,  Moravia,  N.  Y. 

Crumb,  A.  S.,  DeRuyter,  N.  Y. 

Darrow,  Peter  E.,  Niles,  N.  Y. 

Dewitt,  Henry,  Niles,  N.  Y. 

Doyle,  James,  8  Paul  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Duvall,  A.  J.,  East  Campbell,  N.  Y. 

Elliott,  Nathan,  Jr.,  Port  Byron,  N.  Y. 

Fraye,  J.  F.,  Homer,  N.  Y. 

Gifford,  Harrison,  Athens,  Pa. 

Gillett,  Edson  D.,  Skaneateles,  N.  Y. 

Greenfield,  Charles,  Niles,  N.  Y. 

Hacker,  George  H.,  40  Fulton  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Hargan,  Charles,  Lake  Ridge,  N.  Y. 

Horton,  F.  M.,  North  Lansing,  Mich. 

Hudson,  Pitts  O.,  Bay  City,  Mich. 

Hunt,  Fred,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Hyde,  Norman  B.,  Wellsboro,  Pa. 

Johnson,  Nelson  R.,  93  Andrews  street,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 


VETERAN  ASSOCIATION.  379 

Jones,  Charles  E.,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Lane,  John  J.,  50  Capitol  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Lobdell,  Jonathan,  Lansingville,  N.  Y. 

Long,  Alpheus  K.,  Pocomoke  City,  Md. 

Lowe,  John  F.,  Genoa,  N.  Y. 

Marsh,  G.  W.,  Port  Byron,  N.  Y. 

Miller,  Charles  H.,  Dansville,  Mich. 

Myers,  W.  H.,  Ludlowville,  N.  Y. 

Newton,  Albert  D.,  South  Otselic,  N.  Y. 

North,  Rev.  C.  J.,  New  Haven,  Conn. 

Northrup,  M.  V.  B.,  Georgetown,  N.  Y. 

Osborn,  Horace,  59  Reynolds  Arcade,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Pitcher,  David,  Coldwater,  Mich. 

Pitcher,  Lewis  W.,  2725  Prairie  avenue,  Chicago,  111. 

Porter,  James  A.,  Clifton  Springs,  N.  Y. 

Pym,  Joseph,  Lynden,  Wash. 

Remington,  W.  B.,  Painted  Post,  N.  Y. 

Rynders,  Charles,  Poplar  Ridge,  N.  Y. 

Sincerbaux,  Edward,  Moravia,  N.  Y. 

Sincerbaux,  Ira,  Prairie  Farm,  Barron  county,  Wis. 

Sincerbaux,  Leonard,  Groton,  N.  Y. 

Shergur,  Rev.  C.  L.,  Caton,  N.  Y. 

Smith,  R.  A.,  Cato,  N.  Y. 

Stearns,  G.  H.,  Watkins,  Halifax  county,  Va. 

Steih,  Daniel,  Dalton,  N.  Y. 

Stout,  Wilmer,  Lansingville,  N.  Y. 

Swart,  Alex.,  Port  Byron,  N.  Y.    i 

Swift,  Lieut.  George,  Stockton,  Cal. 

Taylor,  George  W.,  Otsego,  Mich. 

Teeter,  Benjamin,  Peruville,  N.  Y. 

Teeter,  Ed,  West  Dryden,  N.  Y. 

Turner,  W.  H.,  Myers,  N.  Y. 

Tuttle,  Frank  J.,  Pitcher,  Chenango  county,  N.  Y. 

Ware,  Clarence,  Port  Byron,  N.  Y. 

Weaver,  Melvin,  Moravia,  N.  Y. 

White,  Rev.  Elisha,  Mottville,  N.  Y. 

Wilcox,  Edward,  305  Taylor  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Wilson,  Nelson,  Cameron  Mills,  N.  Y. 

Wolcott,  George  W.,  43  Maple  avenue,  Cortland,  N.  Y. 

COMPANY  G. 

Adams,  James  E.,  Montgomery,  Kane  county,  111. 

Allpaugh,  William,  Susquehanna,  Pa. 

Bachman,  James  M.,  S.  and  S.  Home,  Bath,  N.  Y. 

Baggerly,  Peter,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Barber,  Perry  S.,  S.  and  S.  Home,  Bath,  N.  Y. 

Barker,  Charles,  Charlotte,  N.  Y. 

Barnes,  Abram,  Rose,  N.  Y. 


380  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Bell,  Alfred  J.,  S.  and  S.  Home,  Bath,  N.  Y. 

Billhardt,  Charles,  111  West  Mohawk  street,  Oswego,  N.  Y. 

Billhardt,  Edward,  111  West  Mohawk  street,  Oswego,  N.  Y. 

Blaisdell,  William  L.,  Martville,  N.  Y 

Boyd,  James,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Calkins,  Ensign,  Jamestown,  North  Dakota. 

Calkins,  W.,  Hastings,  Mich. 

Calkins,  John,  McCook,  Neb. 

Carrier,  A.  A.,  125  Davis  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Carroll,  Lawrence,  Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y. 

Carter,  Jabez,  Jr.,  Fair  Haven,  N.  Y. 

Carter,  William,  Ashland  Centre,  Mich. 

Castler,  Marcus  B.,  Chittenango,  N.  Y. 

Chaddock,  Lieut.  T.  J.,  North  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Clapp,  Cassius  M.,  Huron,  N.  Y. 

Clark,  Timothy,  Hannibalville,  N.  Y. 

Culliford,  Eugene,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Curran,  Jacob,  Spring  Lake,  N.  Y. 

Dean,  Theodore  S.,  North  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Depew,  John,  North  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Devoe,  J.  H.,  Harvey,  111. 

Duell,  L.  P.,  Marion,  N.  Y. 

Dunbar,  Dorus,  Lock  Berlin,  N.  Y. 

Duncan,  Charles,  Mantua,  Ohio. 

Eygnor,  Abram,  North  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Fleming,  Ebenezer,  Eockford,  111. 

Fowler,  Merritt  F.,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Gibson,  Alex.,  Lummisville,  N.  Y. 

Grant,  Willis,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Green,  Bush,  Chelsea,  Mich. 

Haven,  James,  Hannibalville,  N.  Y. 

Henry,  William,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Hodge,  Alex.,  S.  and  S.  Home,  Bath,  N.  Y. 

Hoffman,  Edwin  M.,  Appleton,  N.  Y. 

Home,  William,  Sodus,  N.  Y. 

Johnson,  David,  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Knapp,  Isaac,  Indianapolis,  Ind. 

Langley,  Samuel  W.,  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Lovejoy,  Daniel,  Marion,  N.  Y. 

Loveless,  George,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Madelong,  Theodore,  Oswego,  N.  Y. 

Marshall,  Lieut.  Arthur  W.,  Moravia,  N.  Y. 

Marvin,  James  H.,  Fair  Haven,  N.  Y. 

Mead,  Dwight,  South  Butler,  N.  Y. 

McClay,  James  H.,  West  Somerset,  N.  Y. 

McMaster,  Lieut.  J.  S.,  Homer,  N.  Y. 

Merrill,  J.  H.,  Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y. 

Miller,  Samuel  D.,  Spencer,  N.  Y. 

Morey,  Horace,  North  Rose,  N.  Y. 


VETERAN  ASSOCIATION.  381 

Munson,  Charles  H.,  813  Lenawee  street,  Lansing,  Mich. 

Mies,  Theodore  H.,  Johnson's  Creek,  N.  Y. 

Pierson,  F.  R.,  South  Butler,  N.  Y. 

Plank,  Franklin,  Pipestone,  Minn. 

Pritchard,  John,  Butler  Centre,  N.  Y. 

Eaze,  B.  Frank,  216  State  street,  Albany,  N.  Y. 

Rhodes,  Charles  C.,  356  South  Salina  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Rhodes,  Capt.  H.  J.,  122  Van  Anden  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Rogers,  Patrick,  Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y.  , 

Sanford,  C.  H.,  Marion,  N.  Y. 

Scott,  Irving,  North  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Silliman,  Hiram,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Silliman,  Robert,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Stern,  Lieut.  Henry,  216  Glenwood  avenue,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 

Thomas,  David  H.,  330  Seymour  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Thompson,  William  W.,  Hannibal,  N.  Y. 

Towlerton,  James,  Newark,  N.  Y. 

Tracey,  Calvin  B.,  Weedsport,  N.  Y. 

Tracey,  Roswell,  North  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Waldron,  Harvey  M.,  Red  Creek,  N.  Y. 

Wiggins,  William,  Red  Creek,  N.  Y. 

Winters,  Charles,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

Wolvin,  Abram,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Wolvin,  Robert,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Wood,  Abram  L.,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Wood,  C.  E.,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Woodruff,  Frank  M.,  125  Bacon  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

COMPANY  H. 

Allbright,  John  H.,  Harlemville,  N.  Y. 

Angus,  Elijah,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Angus,  Gilbert,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Earless,  Romain  C.,  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Birdsall,  Isaac  M.,  53  Clifton  street,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Boynton,  J.  C.,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Brown,  Carlos,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Burton,  Lieut.  Reuben,  212  Grace  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Collins,  Leonard,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Colvin,  Lieut.  Sidney  T.,  Lake  View,  Lake  county,  Ore. 

Coombs,  William  H.,  San  Angelo,  Texas. 

Duell,  Albert  E.,  404  New  Jersey  avenue,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Dunham,  A.  J.,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Forgar,  Oscar,  Liverpool,  N.  Y. 

Forncrook,  J.  C.,  Fort  Scott,  Kan. 

Garratt,  Richard,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Gillette,  A.  H.,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Gridley,  C.  L.,  Waterloo,  N.  Y. 

Gridley,  Edward,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Groesbeck,  Charles  S.,  Clvde,  N.  Y. 


382  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Hallett,  Horace  B.,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Handley,  Henry,  South  Butler,  N.  Y. 

Harmon,  Alfred,  Palmyra,  N.  Y. 

Harper,  Alex.,  Kose,  N.  Y. 

Hendrick,  David,  Fulton,  N.  Y. 

Hendrix,  Peter,  Bridgman,  Mich. 

Hickok,  W.  F.,  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Hilts,  Peter,  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Hopkins,  Aim  on,  North  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Howard,  H.  P.,  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Jeffrey,  Thomas  W.,  Mexico,  N.  Y. 

Kellogg,  E.  B.,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Knight,  T.  C.,  Elbridge,  N.  Y. 

Lee,  Charles  A.,  Beardtown,  111. 

Lent,  Lieut.  C.  D.,  Wallington,  N.  Y. 

Mabb,  John,  Sodus  Point,  N.  Y. 

McGrain,  Charles,  Pultney,  Steuben  county,  N.  Y. 

McGuire,  James,  S.  and  S.  Home,  Bath,  N.  Y. 

Marsh,  Cornelius,  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Marsh,  Henry,  Middleville,  Mich. 

Menanson,  Joseph,  Lyons,  N.  Y. 

Miller,  C.  H.,  Liverpool,  N.  Y. 

Peck,  E.  J.,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Pettys,  Charles  V.,  1822  12th  street,  N.  W.,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Pettys,  Lucius,  Savannah,  N.  Y. 

Pimm,  Enos  T.,  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Pitcher,  George  A.,  Nunda,  N.  Y. 

Potts,  Clark,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Poutrie,  Dennis,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Powers,  Edwin,  Sioux  Rapids,  Iowa. 

Race,  James,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Sabin,  George  G.,  104  Main  street,  Watertown,  N.  Y. 

Sager,  Jacob,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Seelye,  Irwin,  North  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Seelye,  J.  J.,  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Sloan,  Alfred  J.,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Soule,  Ira,  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Soule,  Ira  T.,  Rose,  N.  Y. 

Stewart,  Samuel,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Stickles,  Robert,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Taylor,  Hiram,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Toepper,  John  G.,  429  G  street,  N.  W.,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Torrey,  Addison,  267  Walton  avenue,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 

Turner,  Edward,  Port  Byron,  N.  Y. 

Vanderburg,  John  W.,  1113  Walnut  street,  Des  Moines,  Iowa. 

Vanderpool,  Isaac,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Vermilyea,  A.  J.,  Alton,  N.  Y. 

Vosburg,  Lieut.  Tunis,  Mexico,  Pa. 

Wadley,  Martin,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 


ID   LIEUT.    S.    F.    HARRIS, 

COMPANY  I. 
Luter,  1st  Lieutenant. 


VETERAN  ASSOCIATION. 

Waite,  Stephen  M.,  Rose,  N.  Y. 
Williams,  Jacob,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

COMPANY  I. 

Anthony,  George,  Throopsville,  N.  Y. 

Becker,  Lieut.  D.  D.,  Red  Creek,  N.  Y. 

Blauvelt,  James  R.,  Port  Byron,  N.  Y. 

Blauvelt,  Peter  P.,  Fosterville,  N.  Y. 

Blodgett,  Charles,  9  MacMaster  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Blowers,  John  L.,  Axtel,  Erie  county,  Ohio. 

Bowen,  Alonzo,  Monroe,  Mich. 

Brightmire,  John,  Seeley  Creek,  N.  Y. 

Bulkley,  Andrew  J.,  22  Sheridan  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Burch/Jno  H.,  Dryden,  LaPeer  county,  Mich. 

Comstock,  Lieut.  L.  C.,  Chicago,  111. 

Doyle,  James,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Elson,  Henry,  5  Culver  park,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Fend,  John,  Winona,  Minn. 

Frye,  Moses  M.,  167  Genesee  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Godden,  Stephen,  10  Case  avenue,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Graham,  James,  300  Boyden  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Haley,  Andrew,  221  Seymour  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Hall,  Charles,  Titusville,  Pa. 

Harris,  Lieut.  Sam  F.,  4^  Wright  avenue,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Hawkins,  E.  E.,  10  Seminary  avenue,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Higgins,  Charles,  Montezuma,  N.  Y. 

Hodder,  Nathaniel,  22  Easterly  avenue,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Hyatt,  Frank,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Jones,  John  L.,  1st,  4203  Ludlow  street,  West  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Jones,  John  L.,  2d,  Ledyard,  N.  Y. 

Lynch,  Morris,  126  Tenth  street,  Springfield,  Mass.  ( 

Manley,  Thomas,  3013  Fifth  avenue,  Chicago,  111. 

Merry,  Libbeus,  Fleming,  N.  Y. 

McGrain,  Lawrence,  214  Seymour  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

McNamara,  Cornelius,  State  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Miles,  Thomas,  Union  Springs,  N.  Y. 

Monroe,  Willard,  Modena,  Ulster  county,  N.  Y. 

Morgan,  C.  A.,  S.  and  S.  Home,  Bath,  N.  Y. 

Murphy,  James,  132  Fulton  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Murphy,  Michael,  77  Washington  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Negus,  John  J.,  Hartford,  N.  Y. 

Northcott,  J.  R.,  664  Queen  street,  Toronto,  Canada. 

Oakley,  Lester,  Fleming,  N.  Y. 

Oliver,  O.,  Ledyard,  N.  Y. 

O'Tool,  Patrick,  Owasco,  N.  Y. 

Parker,  Joseph,  Plymouth,  N.  H. 

Perkins,  H.  E.,  Elyria,  Ohio. 

Platt,  Giles,  Union  Springs,  N.  Y. 


384  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Powers,  Edward,  Union  Springs,  N.  Y. 

Reid,  David  P.,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Renahan,  James,  23  Chase  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Reynolds,  John,  S.  and  S.  Home,  Bath,  N.  Y. 

Robinson,  Lieut.  John  D.,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Ryan,  William,  70  Walnut  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Shelinburg,  Peter,  Owasco,  N.  Y. 

Smith,  James,  Poplar  Ridge,  N.  Y. 

Smith,  Johnson,  131  Erie  street,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 

Smith,  Martin,  Blame,  Wash. 

Smith,  Polhemus,  Sherwood,  N.  Y. 

Swart,  James,  Marionette,  Wis. 

Thompson,  Loren,  Union  Springs,  N.  Y. 

Thompson,  Orsemus,  Corning,  N.  Y. 

Thompson,  Oscar,  King's  Ferry,  N.  Y. 

Thurlow,  James  H.,  Moravia,  N.  Y. 

Yawger,  William,  Union  Springs,  N.  Y. 

Young,  Edwin,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

COMPANY  K. 

Albright,  Levi,  Lysander,  N.  Y. 

Allen,  Eli,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Austin,  Benjamin,  Hopewell  Centre,  N.  Y. 

Blake,  C.  R.,  Palmyra,  N.  Y. 

Boudiett,  J.  S.,  Oswego,  N.  Y. 

Bowman,  W.,  Bad  Axe,  Mich. 

Boyce,  Peter,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Cain,  Thomas,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Carpenter,  George  Wr.,  Lysander,  N.  Y. 

Colligan,  John,  Waterloo,  N.  Y. 

Cooper,  Barringer,  Eaton  Rapids,  Mich. 

Cooper,  Stephen,  Battle  Creek,  Mich. 

Crowell,  Daniel,  Fairport,  N.  Y. 

Cunningham,  Thomas,  Palmyra,  N.  Y. 

Curran,  Patrick,  117  Benton  street,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Donovan,  James,  48  Adams  street,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Driscoll,  David,  1413  Orange  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Duckett,  Benjamin,  Skaneateles,  N.  Y. 

Duckett,  W.  G.,  Pa.  avenue  and  22d  street,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Eddy,  Henry  D.,  416  Jackson  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Fairweather,  Thomas,  Cheshire,  Mass. 

Foote,  Lieut.  Oscar,  Ira,  N.  Y. 

Green,  D.  C.,  Wolcott,  N.  Y. 

Groom,  Volney  B.,  Hart  Lot,  N.  Y. 

Hadcock,  Dennis,  North  Victory,  N.  Y. 

Hutchins,  Andrew  J.,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Kevand,  John,  Weedsport,  N.  Y. 

King,  Andrew  J.,  Leroy,  N.  Y. 


VETERAN   ASSOCIATION.  385 

King,  Obadiah,  Cayuga  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Kline,  Valentine,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Knapp,  Lieut.  George  P.,  1402  West  Twelfth  street,  Chicago,  111. 

McDougall,  W.  T.,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Moriarty,  Michael,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Morris,  Clark,  Ira,  N.  Y. 

Nichols,  Alvah,  St.  Charles,  Mich. 

Norton,  William  L.,  202  West  Adams  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Peckham,  G.  H.,  Ill  East  First  street,  Oswego,  N.  Y. 

Pettie,  Edgar  C.,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Pierce,  Charles  O.,  Ira,  N.  Y. 

Pritchard,  Allen,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Robinson,  O.  T.,  Amsterdam,  N.  Y. 

Sherman,  Charles,  Lysander,  N.  Y. 

Snyder,  W.  H.,  Huron,  N.  Y. 

Southard,  John,  Cato,  N.  Y. 

Spickerman,  John,  Ira,  N.  Y. 

Sturge,  Lieut.  Philip,  Weedsport,  N.  Y. 

Teller,  James  E.,  Granite  Falls,  Minn. 

Terpenning,  Wallace,  South  Hannibal,  N.  Y. 

Thomas,  John  C.,  Potterville,  Mich. 

Whipple,  John,  Bowen's  Corners,  N.  Y. 

COMPANY  L. 

Alpeter,  George  H.,  567  North  Salina  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 
Andrews,  A.  J.,  3010  Susquehanna  avenue,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Babbitt,  Charles  L.,  107  Van  Buren  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 
Barber,  A.  J.,  Mottville,  N.  Y. 
Buck,  Daniel,  Onondaga  Hill,  N.  Y. 
Carpenter,  Orlando,  1504  Spring  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 
Carrier,  Vaughn,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 
Case,  George  A.,  Onondaga  Hill,  N.  Y. 
Clark,  Charles,  Weedsport,  N.  Y. 
Cook,  C.,  Chittenango,  N.  Y. 
Cooper,  George,  Throopsville,  N.  Y. 
Dandy,  Thomas,  Nunica,  Mich. 
Dodge,  Isaac  K.,  Spring  Lake,  N.  Y. 
Ford,  Charles  A.,  Homer,  N.  Y. 

Fredenburg,  Andrew,  117  East  Genesee  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 
Garrison,  Edward,  Elbridge,  N.  Y. 
Garrison,  William,  902  Allis  street,  Milwaukee,  Wis. 
Gregson,  Frank,  9  Genesee  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 
Hollister,  H.  K.,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Horton,  Charles  A.,  140  Holland  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 
Howe,  Capt.  S.  Augustus,  Gardner,  Mass. 
Hoyt,  J.  L.,  McCook,  Neb. 

Hubbard,  Henry,  Lansing,  Oswego  county,  N.  Y. 
Huntington,  Lieut.  E.  L.,  Mexico,  N.  Y. 
25 


386  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Hurtubise,  Stephen  E.,  Labadie,  Mo. 

Jackson,  Thomas,  28  Francis  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Jewhurst,  Capt.  J.  W.,  Youngstown,  Ohio. 

Jones,  Milton,  Lansing,  Oswego  county,  N.  Y. 

June,  Morris  F.,  532  Seymour  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Kibbie,  A.  M.,  Homer,  N.  Y. 

Laughlin,  George,  Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y. 

Long,  William  E.,  Minneto,  N.  Y. 

Mansfield,  Rupert  E.,  Charlestown,  S.  C. 

Marion,  Napoleon,  Oswego,  N.  Y. 

Marshall,  George  C.,  Five  Corners,  N.  Y. 

Martin,  George,  Clay's  Corners,  N.  Y. 

Mosner,  Peter,  413  Sand  street,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Mulvey,  Frank,  1  Grove  avenue,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Murphy,  Thomas,  212  State  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

O'Brien,  Patrick,  S.  and  S.  Home,  Bath,  N.  Y. 

Peraux,  Peter,  Oswego,  N.  Y. 

Quick,  Lieut.  T.  D.,  Garland,  Pa. 

Radway,  Fred  P.,  Onondaga  Valley,  N.  Y. 

Kobinson,  Lieut.  Charles,  Toledo,  Ohio. 

Rockfellow,  Victor,  Oswego,  N.  Y. 

Sinclair,  Capt.  F.  A.,  Mottville,  N.  Y. 

Sinclair,  James,  Mottville,  N.  Y. 

Sinclair,  Lieut.  William,  Phoenix,  N.  Y. 

Smith,  John,  Oswego,  N.  Y. 

Souls,  Hobart,  12  Mary  street,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Spaulding,  C.  J.,  Hotel  Brozell,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 

Stacey,  Alfred  E.,  Elbridge,  N.  Y. 

Stevens,  E.  P.,  Mexico,  N.  Y. 

Stoyell,  John,  1027  Lawrence  street,  Topeka,  Kan. 

Toner,  John,  Hillsdale,  Mich. 

Walker,  William  V.,  Moravia,  N.  Y. 

Webster,  A.  D.,  Pulaski,  N.  Y. 

Wickes,  Jared,  City  Hall,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Wilcox,  Stephen,  Grand  Rapids,  Mich. 

Willis,  Jno  G.,  Oswego,  N.  Y. 

Wilson,  George  H.,  Rockford,  111.,  Box  1715. 

Winkworth,  John,  911  Avery  avenue,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

COMPANY  M. 

Abbey,  Lieut.  A.  M.,  Richland,  Mich. 
Avery,  B.  L.,  Genoa.  N.  Y. 
Avery,  George,  Alexander,  N.  Y. 
Bartlett,  Jno.  W.,  Creston,  Iowa. 
Bates,  George  W.,  Lodge  Pole,  Neb. 
Beitz,  Charles  L.,  Moravia,  N.  Y. 
Benton,  E.  J.,  Batavia,  N.  Y. 
Bowman,  G.  W.,  Pinkney,  Mich. 


VETERAN  ASSOCIATION.  387 

Brower,  A.  W.,  Sodus  Centre,  N.  Y. 

Butler,  Frederick,  Albion,  N.  Y. 

Carmel,  John,  Mumford,  N.  Y. 

Carney,  James,  Detroit,  Mich. 

Connor,  John,  Pavilion  Centre,  N.  Y. 

Cox,  Benjamin,  Bergen,  N.  Y. 

Crittenden,  Lieut.  T.  J.,  Bergen,  N.  Y. 

Davenport,  N.,  South  Butler,  N.  Y. 

Delano,  E.  C.,  Clyde,  N.  Y. 

Demary,  S.,  Attica,  N.  Y. 

Eddy,  W.  A.,  Morley,  Mich. 

Forbes,  Orson  J.,  Leroy,  N.  Y. 

Fritsche,  Herman,  Java,  N.  Y. 

Garratt,  W.  L.,  Watervliet,  Mich. 

Gloir,  Paul,  Alexander,  N.  Y. 

Griffin,  Charles  E.,  Batavia,  N.  Y. 

Griffis,  John,  Batavia,  N.  Y. 

Hassett,  John,  S.  and  S.  Home,  Bath,  N.  Y. 

Hatch,  James  C.,  Bergen,  N.  Y. 

Humphrey,  Amos,  Darien  Centre,  N.  Y. 

Hutchins,  M.  D.,  Dryden,  N.  Y. 

Jones,  David,  Attica,  N.  Y. 

Knapp,  Albert,  Bergen,  N.  Y. 

Lapp,  H.,  Bennington,  N.  Y. 

Livingston,  A.  H.,  Missouri  Valley,  Iowa. 

Lock,  Edwin,  Lockport,  N.  Y. 

Lockwood,  Norman  A.,  Muir,  Mich. 

Lybolt,  Alonzo,  Monticello,  N.  Y. 

Lybolt,  Arch.,  280  West  127th  street,  New  York  city. 

Lybolt,  L.  A.,  West  Damascus,  Pa. 

Mclntosh,  Angus,  Churchville,  N.  Y. 

McMillan,  Arch.,  Hayes  City,  Kan. 

Minturn,  W.  W.,  Lansing,  Mich. 

Morgan,  Israel,  Sodus  Centre,  N.  Y. 

Moses,  Frank  Sv  Arcadia  Valley,  Neb. 

Moulton,  E.,  Batavia,  N.  Y. 

O'Donnell,  Michael,  419  Second  ave.,  N.  E.,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Parrish,  Lieut.  F.  N.,  Churchville,  N.  Y. 

Patrick,  Corydon  M.,  Hebron,  Neb. 

Pearsall,  Levi,  Moravia,  N.  Y. 

Peck,  George  W.,  Newfield,  N.  Y. 

Pollock,  John  P.,  New  Hartford,  Iowa. 

Pond,  E.  H..  Greenville,  Mich. 

Eandolph,  W.  H.,  Bergen,  N.  Y. 

Rich,  Mortimer,  East  Bethany,  N.  Y. 

Robertson,  George  W.,  130  E  street,  Lincoln,  Neb. 

Rosecrants,  E.  F.,  Union  Springs,  N.  Y. 

Royce,  Day,  Niles,  N.  Y. 

Shadbolt,  H.  Edwin,  Alexander,  N.  Y. 


388  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Smith,  Wallace,  Alexander,  N.  Y. 

Spring,  Scott,  Attica,  N.  Y. 

Stewart,  Alex.  C.,  Union  Springs,  N.  Y. 

Thompson,  Orville,  Morley,  Mich. 

Van  Hoesen,  J.  P.,  Hudson,  N.  Y. 

Vishion,  H.  W.,  73  Michigan  street,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 

Ward,  Edwin,  Batavia,  N.  Y. 

Warren,  J.,  Springville,  N.  Y. 

Wickers,  J.  C.,  Darien,  N.  Y. 

Wing,  E.  B.,  Attica,  N.  Y. 

Wing,  Stephen  P.,  Flint,  Mich. 

Zweitche,  Christian,  Alexander,  N.  Y. 

ASSOCIATION    OF    COMPANY    M    SURVIVORS. 

Somewhat  remote  from  the  other  companies  of  the  regi 
ment,  the  veterans  of  M  Company  effected  an  organization  of 
their  own  in  1887,  and  have  met  regularly  since.  The  attend 
ance  and  the  character  of  the  exercises  indicate  a  deal  of  local 
pride  and  interest  in  the  annual  gatherings,  which  have  been 
held  as  follows,  with  the  named  officers : 

1887,  Oct.  13,  Attica.     Pres.,  Albert  H.  Knapp;  Sec.,  H.  W. 
Vishion. 

1888,  June  28,  LeRoy.    Pres.,  John  Connor;  Sec.,  H.  W.  Vishion. 

1889,  June  27,  LeRoy.    Pres.,  F.  N.  Parish;  Sec.,  H.  W.  Vishion. 

1890,  June  26,  Batavia.     Pres.,  Eugene  B.  Wing;  Sec.,  J.  O. 
Griffis. 

1891,  June  25,  Batavia.    Pres.,  Edward  F.  Moulton;  Sec.,  E.  J. 
Benton. 

1892,  June  30,  Batavia.    Pres.,  John  O.  Griffis;  Sec.,  E.  J.  Ben- 
ton. 

1893,  June  29,  Bergen.    Pres.,  Josiah  T.  Crittenden;  Sec.,  F.  N. 
Parish. 

1894,  June  28,  Attica.    Pres.,  David  S.  Spring;  Sec.,  F.  N.  Par 
ish. 

1895,  June  27,  Churchville.    Pres.,  Albert  H.  Knapp;  Sec.,  F.  N. 
Parish. 

1896,  June  25,  Bergen.      Pres.,  Albert  H.  Knapp;  Sec.,  F.  N. 
Parish. 

1897,  June  24,  Alexander.    Pres.,  Albert  H.  Moulton;  Sec.,  F. 
N.  Parish. 

1898,  June  30,  Batavia.    Pres.,  Edwin  Ward;  Sec.,  F.  N.  Parish. 

1899,  June  29,  Batavia.    Pres.,  Mrs.  J.  O.  Griffis;  Sec.,  Mrs.  F.  N. 
Parish. 

The  next  meeting  is  assigned  for  Batavia  with  J.  O.  Griffis, 
President,  and  F.  N.  Parish,  Secretary;  to  be  held  the  last 
Thursday  in  June,  1900. 

The  names  borne  upon  the  company  membership  are  as  fol 
lows.  The  post  office  is  in  New  York  unless  otherwise  stated: 


VETERAN  ASSOCIATION.  389 

Brevet  Lieutenant  Colonel  Anson  S.  Wood,  Wolcott. 
Captain  Charles  W.  Hough,  Batavia  (honorary). 
Adjutant  W.  DeW.  Pringle,  Hastings,  Minn. 
Lieutenant  Asahel  M.  Abbey,  Richland,  Mich. 
Lieutenant  Josiah  T.  Crittenden,  Bergen. 
Lieutenant  Robert  C.  Worthington,  Fowlerville,  Mich. 
A  very  ^Benjamin  L.,  Genoa.        Manney,  Jas.  H.,  Lynn,  Wis. 
A  very,  George,  Alexander.  Manney,  Thos.  J.,  Wurtzboro. 

Bartlett,  John  W.,  Creston,  la.  Marvin,  A.,  Derby,  Mich. 
Benton,  Edwin  J.,  Batavia.         Miller,  David,  Rodney,  Ont. 
Bowrnan,G.W.,  Cambria,  Mich.   Morgan,  Israel,  Sodus  Centre. 
Bradley,  C.  W.,  Princeton,  111.    Moses,  Frank,  Arcadia,  Neb. 
Brower,  A.  W.,  Sodus  Centre.    Moulton,  Albert  H.,  Alexander. 
Cleveland,  C.  J.,  Chicago,  111.      Munger,  Lucius  A.,  Tracy,  Cal. 
Colt,  Alv.a  N.  Batavia.  Munt,  John,  LeRoy. 

Connelly,  Henry,  Newton,  Mo.    Nichols,  M.  W.,  Detroit,  Mich. 
Connor,  John,  Pavilion  Centre.  O'Donnell,  M.,  Wash.,,  D.  C. 
Cox,  Benjamin,  Bergen.  Parish,  F.  N.,  Churchville,  N.  Y. 

Delano,  E.  Cv  Sodus  Centre.      Peard,  J.  J.,  Campbell,  Cal. 
Demary,  Sylvester,  Attica.          Pearsall,  Levi,  Moravia. 
Dodson,  Earl  A.,  Batavia.  Plant,  Robert,  North  Chili. 

Eastwood,  PJlias,  Mumford.        Pond,  E.  H.,  Greenville,  Mich. 
Eddy,  Wm.  A.,  Morley,  Mich.     Randolph,  Wm.  H.,  Bergen. 
Forbes,  Orson  J.,  LeRoy,  N.  Y.  Rice,  Lyman,  Buffalo. 
Foster,  H.,  Council  Grove,  Kan.  Rich,  Alonzo,  Grinnell,  la. 
Fritsche,  Herman,  Alexander.    Rich,  Mortimer,  E.  Bethany. 
Gloir,  Paul,  Attica.  Richmond,  Sidney,  Rochester. 

Godfrey,  Arthur,  Eaton,  Mich.    Rogers,  George,  Buffalo. 
Griffis,  John  O.,  Batavia.  Shadbolt,  Edwin,  Alexander. 

Hassett,  John,  Bath.  Smead,  Charles,  Pavilion. 

Hollenbeck,  E.  J.,  Mancelona,     Smith,  Wallace  M.,  Batavia. 

Mich.  Spring,  David  S.,  Attica. 

Humphrey,  Amos,  Darien  Schiller,  John  D.,  Niles,  Mich. 

Center.  Taylor,  Stephen  G.,  Chapman. 

Hutehms,  Miles,  Dryden.  Van  Curan,  Charles,  Corfu. 

Kidder,  James,  Crittenden.          Vishion,  Henry  W.,  Buffalo. 
Knapp,  Albert  H.,  Bergen.          Ward,  Edwin,  Batavia. 
Lapp,  Henry,  Bennington.  Warren,  John  J.,  Springville. 

Locke,  E.,  Cedar  Rapids,  Mich.    Wickers,  J.  C.,  Darien  Centre. 
Lyons,  Elias,  Attica.  Wing,  Eugene  B.,  Attica. 

Macintosh,  Angus,  Churchville.  Wing,  Stephen  P.,  Flint,  Mich. 
McMillen,  A.,  Hayes  City,  Kan.  Zweitsche,  Christian,  Alexander 


390  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

CHAPTER     XXVIII. 

PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

By  MBS.  JANET  W.  SEWABD. 

Written  for  "The  Fortnightly,"  a  Woman's  Literary  Club  in  Auburn,  N.  Y.,  January 

20th,  1898. 

I  was  married  on  June  27th,  1860.  The  war  began,  as  you 
know,  in  April,  1861. 

The  first  regiment  raised  here  was  the  19th  New  York  State 
Volunteers;  John  S.  Clark,  Colonel;  my  husband's  cousin,  Clar 
ence  A.  Seward,  Lieutenant  Colonel;  the  Kev.  Henry  Fowler, 
pastor  of  my  church,  the  Central  Presbyterian,  Chaplain. 

The  regiment  must  have  a  stand  of  colors,  so  a  meeting  of 
ladies  was  called.  I  was  one  of  a  committee  appointed  to  raise 
money  and  procure  the  flags.  We  went  to  George  Clough,  the 
artist,  and  he  painted  the  "coat-of-arms  of  the  state  of  New 
York"  on  the  blue  banner,  from  a  picture  of  it  which  I  found 
in  the  State  Constitution. 

The  regiment  was  then  in  camp  near  Elmira.  This  commit 
tee,  with  several  other  ladies,  accompanied  by  a  committee  of 
gentlemen,  went  to  Elmira,  and  Charles  C.  Dwight  presented 
the  regimental  banner  and  B.  F.  Hall  the  national  colors,  in 
behalf  of  the  ladies  of  Auburn. 

My  first  sight  of  the  active  operations  of  the  war  was  in 
September  of  1861,  when  I  went  with  Mrs.  Seward  and  Fanny, 
my  husband's  mother  and  sister,  to  Washington.  At  Havre  de 
Grace  we  came  upon  the  first  camp  stationed  there  to  guard  the 
railroad  and  ferry.  All  the  rest  of  the  way  through  Baltimore 
and  on  to  Washington,  soldiers  were  doing  guard  and  picket 
duty  along  the  railroad.  It  was  a  novel  sight  to  see  these  "Blue 
Coats"  in  almost  a  continuous  line  for  more  than  150  miles, 
some  guarding,  some  building  block-houses,  some  washing  or 
cooking,  some  asleep  on  the  bare  ground,  others  surrounding 
small  camp-fires  cleaning  their  arms,  many  smoking  or  singing 
as  they  performed  their  various  duties. 

Soon  after  reaching  Washington,  we  went  one  afternoon  to 
drive  with  Mr.  Lincoln  and  Mr.  Seward,  visiting  several  of  the 
camps  and  earthworks.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  very  cordial  and  kind 
to  me,  explaining  with  great  interest  all  which  we  saw  en  route. 

At  another  time  Mr.  Seward  took  Fanny  and  me  to  the  White 


MRS.  LT.  COLONEL  SEWARD.  "NELLIE"  SEWARD  (aged  one  year). 

SEWARD  HOME,  FORT  MANSFIELD. 


PERSONAL    EXPERIENCES    OF   THE    CIVIL    WAR.  391 

House  to  call  on  the  president.  We  found  him  in  his  library 
upstairs,  and  were  received  with  the  utmost  kindness  and  sim 
plicity. 

A  few  days  later  Fanny  and  I  accompanied  Mr.  Seward  to 
Baltimore,  and  from  there  to  Fort  McHenry  to  see  General 
Dix,  who  was  in  command.  We  were  received  and  entertained 
by  Mrs.  Dix  and  two  daughters,  while  Mr.  Seward  was  in  con 
sultation  with  the  general. 

I  remember  the  deep  impression  that  the  big  fort  made  upon 
us,  with  its  guns,  the  old  casemates  brightened  by  the  presence 
of  handsome  young  officers  and  gay  young  women.  At  dinner 
there  was  a  long  table  full  of  guests.  I  was  seated  at  Mrs.  Dix's 
right  hand,  beside  one  of  her  daughters,  with  Fanny  opposite. 
Mr.  Seward  sat  by  the  general,  as  they  wished  to  continue  their 
conference.  This  fort  soon  after  this  visit  became  famous  as  a 
place  of  detention  for  prominent  secessionists. 

On  another  occasion  we  went  with  Mr.  Seward  to  call  upon 
General  Scott.  The  handsome  old  hero  was  sitting  upon  his 
piazza  with  some  of  his  staff  officers.  He  received  us  with 
much  ceremony  and  courtesy,  inviting  us  into  his  military 
office,  saying,  "Perhaps  these  young  ladies  would  like  to  see 
how  an  old  soldier  lives."  He  was  as  straight  as  an  arrow, 
and  towered  so  far  above  me  that  he  seemed  like  a  giant. 

We  soon  after  came  home,  leaving  Washington  one  great 
growing  camp  of  soldiers,  and  finding  Auburn,  if  possible, 
more  than  ever  aroused  by  the  war  spirit. 

In  the  fall  of  1861,  Quartermaster  General  Meigs  appealed 
to  the  loyal  families  of  the  country  for  contributions  of  blankets 
for  the  use  of  the  army.  Mrs.  Seward,  knowing  from  personal 
observation  the  necessity  for  this  appeal,  suggested  the  organi 
zation  of  a  "ladies'  union  society."  Accordingly,  we  formed 
a  committee  and  issued  a  card  referring  to  General  Meigs'  call, 
asking  that  blankets  be  sent  to  Corning  Hall.  From  this  grew 
the  organization  of  the  Ladies'  Aid  Society  of  Auburn. 

The  loyal  women  generally  throughout  the  North  organized 
"soldiers'  aid  societies/'  spending  their  time  cutting  out  gar 
ments,  sewing,  scraping  lint  and  rolling  bandages.  We  brought 
home  many  garments  to  make.  Besides  this,  much  of  our  spare 
time  was  occupied  knitting  socks  for  the  soldiers. 

Our  society  continued  this  work  throughout  the  war.  Pre 
vious  to  the  formation  of  the  "Aid  Society,"  the  "Good  Samari- 


392  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

tan  Society,"  of  which  Mrs.  Alvah  Worden,  Mrs.  Reward's  sis 
ter,  was  president,  had  collected  large  quantities  of  sanitary 
stores  and  clothing,  which  were  forwarded  from  time  to  time  to 
the  "National  Sanitary  Commission."  This  society  also  con 
tinued  its  work  until  the  close  of  the  war. 

My  husband  and  Clinton  MacDougall  had  lately  started  in  the 
banking  business.  One  day  in  the  fall  of  1861,  MacDougall 
came  to  see  me  and  said,  "One  of  us  ought  to  enlist,  and  I  have 
told  your  husband  that  I  must  be  the  one,  as  he  has  a  wife 
and  I  have  no  one  to  care  for,  so  I  am  going."  Mrs.  Seward, 
Fanny  and  I  helped  to  fit  out  "our  soldier,"  as  we  called  him, 
and  he  soon  went  away  as  a  captain  in  the  75th  Regiment. 

In  1862  Captain  MacDougall  came  home  from  Florida 
wounded,  and  at  Mrs.  Seward's  invitation,  came  to  our  house, 
and  we  nursed  him  for  several  weeks. 

In  February  and  March,  1862,  I  spent  six  weeks  in  Wash 
ington.  Mrs.  Seward  and  Fanny  were  in  Philadelphia,  where 
Fanny  was  studying  French.  The  Washington  family  at  that 
time  consisted  of  Mr.  Seward,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Frederick  Seward, 
Colonel  Augustus  Seward,  the  oldest  son,  and  myself.  There 
were  many  receptions  and  visits.  The  officers'  uniforms  mad^ 
the  receptions  very  gay  in  appearance,  and  almost  all  the  con 
versation  was  about  the  war. 

Every  Wednesday  afternoon  Mrs.  Frederick  Seward  held  a 
ladies'  reception,  and  every  other  Saturday  evening  a  large  gen 
eral  reception  was  given,  when  the  house  would  be  filled  to 
overflowing.  General  and  Mrs.  McClellan  always  came.  The 
general  was  then  in  command  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 

At  the  President  and  Mrs.  Lincoln's  Tuesday  afternoon  re 
ceptions,  the  ladies  of  the  Cabinet  always  assisted  Mrs.  Lin 
coln,  Mrs.  Frederick  Seward  occupying  the  first  place,  as  the 
representative  of  the  wife  of  the  secretary  of  state.  We  were 
all  in  full  evening  dress,  the  gentlemen  in  dress  coats,  as  was 
the  custom  of  the  time.  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  gorgeous  with  a 
wreath  of  large  white  roses  around  her  head,  which,  as  her  face 
was  round  and  full,  was  not  very  becoming. 

I  went  with  Mrs.  Frederick  Seward  to  Arlington  House  to  call 
upon  the  officers'  wives  who  were  quartered  there.  It  was  a 
grand  old  mansion,  and  occupied  by  General  Robert  E.  Lee 
until  the  beginning  of  the  war.  One  of  the  ladies  invited  us 
to  her  room,  and  gave  us  pieces  of  the  china  that  was  presented 


PERSONAL    EXPERIENCES    OF    THE    CIVIL    WAR.  393 

to  Martha  Washington  by  General  Lafayette,  she  having  found 
a  box  of  broken  pieces  in  the  attic. 

I  wrote  to  my  husband  at  this  time:  "The  Comte  de  Paris, 
Due  de  Chartres  and  Prince  de  Joinville  were  here  to  dinner 
last  night.  They  appeared  so  pleased  to  see  me  again.  The 
count  asked  how  you  were,  and  a  great  many  questions  about 
you;  said  he  hoped  that  he  would  meet  you  again." 

They  had  been  traveling  through  the  country  a  short  time 
before  and  came  to  Auburn  with  a  letter  to  my  husband,  and 
we  entertained  them  while  here.  These  three  princes  of  the 
Koyal  House  of  Orleans  arrived  in  Washington  in  September, 
1861,  the  Prince  de  Joinville,  son  of  King  Louis  Philippe,  and 
his  nephews,  the  Comte  de  Paris  and  Due  de  Chartres,  the 
Comte  de  Paris  being  lineal  heir  of  the  throne  of  France.  The 
two  young  men  came  to  offer  their  services  and  peril  their  lives 
for  the  Union,  serving  as  captains  in  our  army. 

In  the  summer  of  1862,  there  were  more  calls  for  troops,  and 
the  lllth  and  138th  Eegiments  were  quickly  raised  in  response. 
My  husband  was  commissioned  lieutenant  colonel  of  the  138th 
Regiment,  although  I  did  not  know  it  until  a  few  days  later. 

Of  course  we  talked  about  my  husband's  going,  but  I  was  in 
hopes  he  would  not  have  to  do  so;  but  one  afternoon,  while  T 
was  spending  the  day  with  my  mother,  who  was  not  well,  he 
came  in  with  his  hand  behind  him,  sat  down  before  me  and 
unwrapped  a  parcel  and  gave  to  me  a  large  photograph  of  him 
self.  I  knew  instantly  that  he  was  going  to  leave  me.  I  hope 
that  I  took  it  bravely,  but  I  can  not  exactly  remember.  After 
that,  there  were  a  great  many  preparations  to  make  and  the 
time  went  altogether  too  fast. 

One  day,  while  our  regiment  was  forming,  I  was  told  that 
a  lady  wished  to  see  me.  I  found  her  to  be  one  of  my  calling 
acquaintances.  She  said,  "I  have  come  to  request  you  to  ask 
your  husband  to  persuade  my  husband  not  to  go  to  the  war; 
I  can  not  let  him  go."  "But,"  said  I,  "how  can  I  do  that?  My 
husband  is  going."  "Oh,"  said  she,  "your  husband  is  going  as 
lieutenant  colonel,  while  my  husband  is  only  a  lieutenant." 
"Well,"  I  replied,  "it  is  just  as  hard  for  me  to  have  my  husband 
leave  me  as  it  is  for  you  to  have  yours  leave  you,  and  I  can  not 
see  what  the  difference  of  rank  has  to  do  with  it." 

On  the  llth  of  September,  1862,  our  first  daughter  was  born. 
On  the  12th  very  early  in  the  morning,  I  was  aroused  by  an 


394  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

unusual  sound,  and  listening,  found  that  it  was  the  steady 
tramp  of  many  feet  passing  the  house.  No  other  sound  but 
a  few  words  of  command  in  a  lowered  voice  that  I  knew  so 
well.  It  was  our  regiment  marching  to  take  the  train  for 
Washington.  It  was  really  to  me  the  most  mournful  sound 
that  I  ever  heard.  No  drum,  no  fife,  nothing  but  the  quick, 
firm  steps;  and  all  the  stillness  was  for  my  sake.  My  husband 
was  permitted  to  stay  a  few  days  longer,  and  then  joined  his 
regiment  near  Washington,  where  they  were  in  "Camp  Nellie 
Seward,"  named  in  honor  of  our  little  girl. 

One  day  in  December  came  a  great  surprise  for  me.  I  re 
ceived  a  letter  telling  me  that  our  regiment,  now  changed  to 
the  9th  New  York  Heavy  Artillery,  had  gone  into  winter  quar 
ters,  and  that  a  log-cabin  was  almost  finished,  and  I  was  ex 
pected  to  come  with  the  baby  and  occupy  it.  There  were  a 
great  many  discussions  in  the  families.  Both  our  mothers  said 
"Go,"  but  the  family  physician,  when  consulted,  said,  "Well, 
if  you  do  go,  you  will  bring  a  dead  baby  home  with  you."  Mrs. 
Seward  said,  "Nonsense;  think  of  all  the  babies  that  have  been 
born  and  brought  up  in  log-cabins."  I  made  my  preparations 
to  go;  then  we  started  one  cold  winter's  day,  Nelly  three 
months  old:  Mrs.  Worden,  my  husband's  aunt;  Mrs.  Bostwick, 
my  sister,  and  the  nurse. 

When  we  arrived  at  Albany,  we  crossed  the  river  in  a  ferry 
boat.  The  shores  were  packed  with  great  cakes  of  ice.  The 
passengers  had  to  jump  down  several  feet  on  to  the  ice,  as  the 
boat  could  not  reach  the  dock.  We  were  women  alone.  Mrs. 
Bostwick  took  Nelly  and  jumped;  then  the  rest  of  us  followed, 
with  bags  and  bundles.  There  were  no  drawing-room  cars  in 
those  days,  and  there  was  always  a  general  rush  for  seats  in  the 
crowded,  uncomfortable  cars.  We  staid  at  the  Astor  House  in 
New  York  over  night. 

Leaving  Mrs.  Bostwick  in  New  York,  we  started  early  next 
morning.  After  passing  Philadelphia,  we  began  to  see  camps 
occasionally.  Through  Baltimore  and  on  to  Washington,  the 
railroads  were  guarded.  Everywhere  we  stopped,  soldiers  were 
on  duty.  At  one  place,  while  the  train  was  waiting,  I  was  hold 
ing  the  baby  at  the  window.  There  were  several  soldiers  stand 
ing  looking  at  us.  A  guard  as  he  passed  looked  up  at  the 
baby  and  raised  his  cap.  At  that,  Aunty  Worden  opened  the 
window  and  said,  "A  soldier's  baby."  Then  all  the  men  waved 
their  caps  and  cheered  until  the  train  moved  on. 


PERSONAL    EXPERIENCES    OF    THE    CIVIL    WAR.  395 

When  we  arrived  in  the  long,  dark  depot  at  Washington,  as 
I  stepped  off  the  car  with  baby  in  my  arms,  I  was  seized  by  a 
tall,  great-coated  soldier,  who  said,  "Give  me  the  baby  and  come 
this  way."  I  helped  Aunty  Worden  to  alight,  turned  and  ran 
after  the  man,  calling,  "Will,  Will,  wait,  you  are  carrying  her 
upside  down."  Poor  fellow!  He  had  never  carried  a  baby 
before. 

We  received  a  warm  welcome  at  our  father's  house,  where 
we  spent  the  night.  I  was  told  that  an  army-wagon  would 
stop  for  our  trunks  in  the  morning,  and  we  would  go  out  to 
camp  in  the  afternoon.  My  husband  came  after  breakfast,  and 
we  went  out  and  bought  a  cradle  and  table  furniture.  Every 
thing  else  he  had  already  provided  for  our  comfort.  After 
lunch,  he  hurried  back  to  his  duties.  It  was  a  great  amuse 
ment  to  the  family  when  the  big  army-wagon,  with  its  white 
cover,  drawn  by  six  mules,  stopped  at  the  door  and  took  in 
trunks,  cradle,  etc. 

In  the  afternoon,  our  brother,  Colonel  Augustus  Seward, 
went  with  us  in  the  family  carriage.  Our  camp  was  situated 
near  Tennallytown,  six  miles  from  Washington,  out  through 
Georgetown.  As  we  were  passing  Georgetown,  the  nurse  sud 
denly  exclaimed,  "Oh !  Mrs.  Seward,  we  have  forgotten  a  wash- 
tub."  So  we  stopped,  bought  a  tub  and  put  it  on  the  front  of 
the  carriage,  much,  I  think,  to  the  disgust  of  the  dignified 
coachman  in  livery,  a  gentleman  of  color.  The  roads  were 
very  rough,  the  red-clay  soil  being  badly  cut  up  with  the  con 
stant  passage  of  the  heavy  army-wagons. 

Arriving  at  Tennallytown,  we  turned  into  a  road  across  the 
fields,  going  a  mile  towards  the  Potomac  river,  and  a  mile  from 
the  famous  chain  bridge.  We  came  first  to  Fort  Reno,  where 
one-half  of  our  regiment  was  encamped,  under  command  of 
Colonel  Welling,  who  had  built  a  log-house  in  a  pine-grove. 
Half  a  mile  beyond,  out  in  an  open  field,  we  found  Fort  Mans 
field,  commanded  by  Lieutenant  Colonel  Seward,  the  other 
half  of  the  regiment  being  encamped  there. 

It  was  about  5  o'clock,  the  sun  just  going  down,  the  beauti 
ful  rosy  light  tinting  the  white  tents,  and  throwing  a  soft 
glow  over  the  landscape.  We  easily  found  the  only  log-cabin 
there,  and  drove  to  the  door.  I  could  not  understand  the  mean 
ing  of  the  perfect  quiet.  There  was  no  one  in  sight  excepting 
the  soldier  on  guard  in  front  of  the  headquarters  tent,  which 


396  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

was  just  opposite  our  cabin.  The  guard  saluted  Colonel  Au 
gustus  Seward  and  told  us  to  go  into  the  house.  We  entered 
a  good-sized  room  with  a  bunk,  or  rough  bedstead,  in  one  corner, 
a  table,  the  cradle,  four  chairs  and  a  rocking-chair,  a  cunning 
little  stove  for  burning  wood,  and  a  carpet  on  the  floor.  Back 
of  this  room  was  a  kitchen  and  a  pantry  off,  with  stairs  going 
up  to  the  loft,  where  there  was  another  bunk  for  the  nurse. 
Augustus  made  a  fire  in  the  stove. 

When  we  were  nearly  unpacked,  a  man  came  running  in  to 
receive  us.  He  was  Henry  Fowler,  known  in  Auburn  as 
"Banty  Fowler."  I  said,  "Where  is  everybody?"  He  answered, 
"At  dress-parade;  the  colonel  will  be  here  soon;  it  is  almost 
over."  And  in  a  few  moments  the  companies  came  marching 
back  to  their  quarters,  and  my  husband  came  in,  giving  us  a 
warm  welcome. 

The  nurse  and  I  made  the  house  look  very  homelike.  I  had 
taken  red  curtains  and  put  them  up  at  the  two  windows  in  the 
sitting-room.  I  found  Banty,  as  we  all  called  him,  putting  the 
tea-kettle  over,  and  discovered  that  he  was  the  colonel's  cook 
and  maid-of-all-work,  and  a  real  good  cook  he  was,  too.  Our 
bed  was  a  tick  filled  with  good  clean  straw,  over  it  a  pair  of 
gray  army-blankets.  I  brought  with  me  sheets,  pillow-cases, 
pillows  and  an  old-fashioned  blue  bedspread  of  my  mother's. 

I  remember  being  awakened  one  night  by  a  peculiar  sen 
sation  about  my  head,  and  found  the  wind  was  blowing  through 
the  cracks  between  the  logs  so  hard  that  my  hair  was  blowing 
about  my  face.  The  next  day  I  pinned  newspapers  to  the  logs 
all  around  the  bed  and  cradle.  With  all  the  wind  and  fresh 
air,  not  one  of  us  had  a  cold  all  winter,  nor  were  any  of  us 
sick  but  once,  when  my  husband  had  a  sharp  attack  of  malarial 
fever. 

I  must  tell  you  about  a  funny  little  Italian  doctor  that  we 
employed  in  Washington  because  he  was  a  homeopathist.  Dr. 
Horatio  Kobinson  told  me  to  have  the  baby  vaccinated,  and 
sent  me  a  quill  with  the  virus  in  it.  I  sent  for  the  doctor,  and 
asked  him  to  attend  to  the  baby.  He  took  the  quill,  looked  at 
it,  asked  about  it,  and  said,  "I  will  come  to-morrow  morning; 
I  never  saw  anything  like  this,"  and  took  the  quill  away  with 
him.  He  came  the  next  morning  and  vaccinated  the  baby  with 
the  little  particles  from  the  tube.  It  did  not  take,  and  when 
we  asked  about  it,  we  found  that  he  had  used  the  sand  that 


PERSONAL    EXPERIENCES    OF    THE    CIVIL    WAR.  397 

the  little  glass  tube  of  virus  was  packed  in.  Fortunately,  baby 
did  not  take  the  small-pox. 

Our  camp  at  Fort  Mansfield  was  located  in  the  rear  of  the 
fort.  It  was  laid  out  in  company  streets,  the  men's  tents  fac 
ing  each  other  about  thirty  feet  apart,  the  respective  company 
officers'  tents  facing  each  street.  Then  came  the  staff  officers' 
tents,  then  the  headquarters  tent,  and  back  of  that  and  facing 
it  our  log-cabin,  connected  by  a  corduroy  walk  through  the 
mud.  We  had  very  jolly  times  in  our  little  house;  entertained 
the  officers  and  wives,  two  at  a  time,  as  our  table  would  hold 
only  four,  and  many  an  evening  we  played  whist  and  euchre 
with  Major  Taft  and  Quartermaster  Knowles,  Nelly  fast  asleep 
in  her  cradle  in  the  corner  of  the  room.  I  never  thought  of  our 
voices  disturbing  her,  and  I  do  not  remember  that  they  did. 

One  Sunday  morning  I  happened  to  look  out  of  the  door,  and 
was  surprised  to  see  my  husband  coming  up  the  company  street, 
and  a  soldier  running  after  him.  I  was  just  about  to  scream 
to  him,  as  the  man  looked  very  angry,  when  the  guard  ran  and 
grabbed  the  soldier  by  the  collar.  My  husband  turned,  looked 
at  them,  then  walked  over  and  handed  me  a  loaded  pistol,  and 
then  went  back.  It  seems  that  the  poor  soldier  was  crazy 
drunk  and  had  held  off  several  of  the  guard  who  were  trying 
to  arrest  him.  They  were  all  afraid  of  being  shot,  so  they  sent 
for  the  colonel,  who  asked  the  man  to  hand  him  the  pistol, 
which  was  cocked  and  pointed  at  him,  but  received  in  reply 
these  words,  "Don't  come  near  me,  Colonel  Sewrard;  I  would 
rather  shoot  any  man  in  the  regiment  than  you ;  but,  damn  you, 
I  will  shoot  you  if  you  lay  hands  on  me."  The  colonel  looked 
him  straight  in  the  eye,  saying  kindly,  "I  know  you  will  not 
shoot  me;  give  me  your  revolver."  And  the  man  did  instinct 
ively  as  commanded,  and  handed  him  the  weapon.  I  have 
heard  my  husband  say  that  he  felt  that  he  came  nearer  being 
killed  by  that  man  than  in  any  of  the  battles. 

We  had  a  great  many  callers  from  Washington  and  Auburn 
at  different  times — the  president,  members  of  the  Cabinet, 
foreign  ministers  and  others,  all  curious  to  see  how  we  lived  in 
camp.  I  wish  I  had  thought  to  have  kept  a  record  of  them. 

Early  in  February,  1863,  I  went  into  Washington  with  Nelly 
to  visit  Mrs.  Seward,  while  my  husband  was  sitting  on  court- 
martial,  which  took  him  away  from  camp  the  most  of  the  time. 
While  there  he  was  sent  for  one  morning  by  the  president,  and 


398  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

ordered  to  leave  that  night  on  an  important  secret  mission  to 
Louisiana.  He  was  gone  about  three  weeks.  We  did  not  hear 
a  word  from  him  until  he  arrived  back  in  New  York,  nor  could 
we  tell  where  he  had  gone.  Oh !  how  glad  we  were  to  get  back 
to  our  little  cabin  again. 

As  long  as  the  roads  were  good,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Seward  came 
out  every  few  days  to  see  the  baby,  but  in  the  spring  the  roads 
were  so  cut  up  by  the  heavy  army-wagons,  and  the  mud  was 
so  deep,  that  nothing  but  an  army-wagon  or  a  horse  alone  could 
get  through  them,  and  for  six  weeks  they  could  not  get  out 
to  see  us,  nor  I  in  to  see  them.  Then  there  came  a  very  beautiful 
day,  and  my  husband  proposed  that  I  should  go  in  on  horse 
back,  as  he  and  the  quartermaster  were  going;  so  I  did,  but  oh, 
what  a  ride!  Our  horses  had  to  walk  all  the  six  miles,  most  of 
the  way  by  the  fences  on  the  grass,  or  sinking  in  the  mud  to 
their  knees. 

As  the  warm  weather  came  on,  I  was  surprised  one  day  to 
find  a  soldier  making  a  garden  at  the  side  of  the  house,  which 
he  filled  with  wild  flowers.  I  went  out  to  admire  them  and 
thank  him,  when  he  said,  "You  don't  remember  me;  I  used  to 
make  garden  for  your  mother,  Mrs.  Watson ;  and  what  a  pretty 
garden  she  had!"  Many  a  morning  I  would  find  a  new  wild 
flower  planted  before  I  was  up.  After  the  flowers  were  gone 
and  the  sun  was  strong,  we  having  the  shade  of  only  one  old 
apple-tree,  on  the  east  side  of  the  house,  the  men  cut  and  set 
around  the  house  evergreen  trees.  Their  shade  was  very  grate 
ful  to  us.  The  soldiers  were  all  fond  of  the  baby,  and  brought 
all  sorts  of  things  for  her  amusement.  One  day  it  was  a  young 
crow,,  which  Banty  and  I  succeeded  in  taming  so  that  he  would 
hop  in  and  eat  with  us  at  the  table.  This  was  great  fun  for 
Nelly. 

There  were  constant  rumors  that  the  enemy  might  attack 
the  Chain  Bridge,  which  was  only  a  mile  from  us,  and  they  were 
making  frequent  raids,  so  one  afternoon  in  May,  just  about 
sunset,  the  long  roll,  the  signal  of  an  attack,  was  sounded. 
The  companies  all  rushed  to  arms,  and  Mary  and  I  received  or 
ders  to  pack  up  and  go  into  Washington.  We  started  in  a 
little  one-horse  wagon  that  we  had  been  using,  and  a  soldier 
drove  us  in  by  the  light  of  the  full  moon,  taking  pains  not  to 
forget  the  countersign,  that  we  gave  to  the  pickets,  as  we  passed 
them.  Upon  arriving  at  the  house,  we  astonished  and  fright- 


PERSONAL    EXPERIENCES   OF    THE    CIVIL    WAR.  399 

ened  the  family,  by  the  news  that  we  were  running  from  the 
enemy,  but  quieted  their  fears  by  saying  that  the  men  were 
getting  so  careless  and  lazy  that  the  lieutenant  colonel  gave 
them  the  alarm,  but  had  to  send  his  family  in  to  give  it  the 
effect  of  reality.  I  did  not  go  back  to  our  dear  little  cabin, 
much  to  my  regret,  as  there  were  frequent  alarms,  and  raids 
by  the  guerrillas,  as  well  as  rumors  that  the  regiment  was  to 
be  moved  soon,  and  it  was  getting  too  warm  to  stay  in  the 
south. 

We  came  back  to  Auburn,  staying  with  Mrs.  Seward.  As 
we  were  women  alone,  the  front  of  the  house  was  closed,  the 
family  living  in  the  north  side  and  back  of  the  house.  It  was 
Mrs.  Seward's  custom  during  the  summer  to  rise  early  and  read 
and  write  by  a  window  in  the  north  room  upstairs,  so  the  blinds 
were  always  open.  One  morning  she  was  not  as  early  as  usual, 
but  when  she  went  in  a  large  stone  was  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  and  broken  glass  was  on  her  chair  and  the  floor.  The 
stone  had  been  thrown  through  the  window,  and  if  she  had 
been  sitting  in  the  chair  she  would  have  been  hurt.  When  she 
came  to  tell  me  about  it,  she  said,  "You  had  better  take  baby 
and  go  to  your  mother's;  we  may  have  the  house  burned,  or 
something  worse."  "No,"  said  I,  "I  will  not  leave  you  alone." 
Then  she  said,  "If  you  have  anything  very  valuable,  you  had 
better  take  it  away."  So  that  afternoon  I  took  my  husband's 
photograph  down  to  my  mother's  house,  it  being,  to  my  mind, 
the  most  valuable  thing  that  I  possessed.  This  was  at  the  time 
that  the  copperhead  element  was  very  active  in  the  North,  and 
we  were  frequently  threatened  with  violence. 

My  husband  was  sent  in  August,  1863,  with  four  companies 
of  his  regiment  down  on  the  Potomac  river  twenty  miles  to  a 
place  called  Rozier's  bluff,  where  they  built  a  fort  or  earth 
works,  called  Fort  Foote.  It  was  a  high  bluff  on  the  river,  but 
back  of  it  was  a  low  marsh,  known  as  "The  Graveyard  of  Prince 
George  County,"  and  that,  with  the  turning  of  the  earth  dur 
ing  the  hot  weather,  caused  a  great  deal  of  sickness  among  the 
men.  Out  of  600,  300  were  sick  with  fever.  In  September  I 
was  making  my  mother  a  visit,  and  went  one  afternoon  to  the 
milliner's  with  my  sister,  Mrs.  Pomeroy.  While  there  I  re 
ceived  a  telegram  from  Mr.  Seward  saying,  "William  very  sick; 
come  immediately  with  his  mother."  I  hurried  home,  while 
Mrs.  Pomeroy  went  to  Mrs.  Seward  with  the  despatch.  We 


400  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

packed  up,  and  in  a  few  hours  were  on  our  way,  accompanied 
by  Mr.  Pomeroy.  What  a  hard  night's  ride  that  was.  We  went 
by  the  Northern  Central  road,  so  we  could  get  there  sooner. 
There  were  no  sleeping-cars,  so  we  all  sat  in  the  hard,  straight- 
backed  seats  all  night,  two  in  a  seat,  Mary  and  I  taking  turns 
holding  the  baby.  We  arrived  in  Washington  early  in  the 
morning,  so  thankful  to  find  our  dear  one  alive,  a  little  better, 
but  desperately  ill  with  dysentery.  He  was  taken  sick  two 
days  before,  and  the  doctors  said  that  he  could  not  live;  sent  for 
his  father,  who  had  him  carried  on  a  stretcher  to  Washington, 
accompanied  by  his  faithful  regimental  surgeon,  Dr.  Cham 
berlain,  who  never  left  him  until  he  commenced  to  get  better. 

Sir  Henry  Holland,  physician  to  Queen  Victoria,  was  at  the 
time  visiting  Mr.  Seward,  and  hearing  how  sick  his  son  was, 
asked  to  see  him.  After  he  had  carefully  examined  the  patient, 
he  said  to  Mr.  Seward,  "The  young  surgeon  is  doing  well;  I 
think  your  son  will  recover  with  careful  nursing;  give  him  only 
mutton  broth;  it  is  the  most  soothing  nourishment  in  his  dis 
ease."  I  remember  how  pleased  we  all  were  with  Sir  Henry, 
he  was  so  kind  and  interested  for  us. 

With  the  good  care  of  the  doctors  and  his  mother,  my  hus 
band  was  well  enough  to  come  home  in  October.  We  had  been 
here  only  about  a  week  when  he  was  taken  with  typhoid  fever, 
and  for  three  dismal  months  he  had  a  hard  fight  for  his  life. 
There  were  no  trained  nurses  then.  His  mother  and  I  took  all 
the  care  of  him.  Dr.  Horatio  Eobinson  watched  him  day  and 
night,  and  with  his  constant  care  and  Dr.  Kobinson,  Sr.'s, 
counsel,  he  finally  recovered. 

In  February,  my  husband  went  back  to  his  command  at  Fort 
Foote.  Houses  had  been  built  there  for  the  officers.  Major 
Taft,  who  had  been  in  command  during  the  lieutenant  colonel's 
absence,  was  occupying  the  colonel's  house  while  one  was  build 
ing  for  him,  so  I  had  to  remain  in  Washington  for  the  plaster 
to  dry  in  the  major's  house;  but  it  took  so  long  that  finally  I 
moved  down  with  my  mother,  who  had  come  on  to  make  me  a 
visit. 

Our  house  at  Fort  Foote  was  built  of  boards  battened  and 
painted  drab.  There  was  a  large  room  in  the  centre,  with  a 
front  and  back  door,  a  stairway  going  up  to  a  loft  over  this 
room  and  a  pantry  under  the  stairs.  On  each  side  was  a  small 
bedroom,  with  doors  opening  on  the  front  as  well  as  into  the 


PERSONAL    EXPERIENCES    OF    THE    CIVIL    WAR.  401 

room.  The  major,  his  wife  and  three  children  occupied  one 
room  until  their  house  was  finished.  Mother  and  the  nurse, 
Mary  Shiels,  occupied  the  loft,  and  were  very  comfortable 
excepting  when  the  rain  came  through  the  board  roof.  A  tent 
at  the  back  served  as  a  kitchen,  where  Banty  Fowler  con 
tinued  to  cook  us  good  things.  His  buckwheat  cakes  were  fine, 
and  the  oysters  and  shad  that  he  brought  from  the  fishing  boats 
that  came  up  the  river  were  the  best  that  I  ever  ate.  The  shad 
were  so  fresh  that  Banty  used  to  say  they  turned  over  in  the 
pan  while  he  was  cooking  them. 

We  were  much  more  stylish  at  this  fort,  and  had  more  com 
pany.  Major  Taft  and  Quartermaster  Knowles  had  their  fam 
ilies,  and  several  of  the  captains  their  wives  with  them.  Many 
general  officers  as  well  as  citizens  came  down  to  see  the  fort, 
and  we  entertained  the  most  of  them. 

Fort  Foote  was  the  largest  and  most  complete  earthwork  that 
was  built  for  the  defense  of  Washington,  and  I  believe  is  still 
standing.  It  commanded  the  approaches  by  the  river  for  sev 
eral  miles,  and  its  great  guns  would  make  it  exceedingly  diffi 
cult  for  an  enemy  to  get  past  it.  There  had  never  been  such 
large  guns  mounted  before  as  it  contained,  and  it  seemed  to  me 
that  the  soldiers  (it  took  three  or  four  hundred  at  a  time)  would 
never  be  able  to  get  them  up  the  bluff  and  into  position.  The 
balls  fired  from  them  were  so  heavy  that  I  could  not  even  turn 
one  over  on  the  ground,  each  weighing  500  pounds,  and  re 
quired  100  pounds  of  powder  to  fire  them.  When  fired,  the  men 
were  instructed  to  raise  on  their  toes  and  open  their  mouths  to 
lessen  the  effect  of  the  concussion. 

One  day  there  came  down  the  president,  secretary  of  war, 
and  several  general  officers,  with  their  wives,  to  see  the  guns 
fired.  Careful  preparation  and  distance  measurements  had 
been  made  for  the  experiment;  a  large  target  placed  upon  a  raft 
had  been  anchored  near  the  Virginia  shore,  about  two  miles 
below.  The  men  had  practiced  until  they  felt  sure  of  their 
aim.  Just  as  the  party  were  assembling  to  witness  the  smash 
ing  of  the  target  with  one  of  the  great  balls,  the  colonel  was 
astonished  and  chagrined  to  see  through  his  glass  a  small  party 
of  rebels  row  out  from  the  shore,  cut  the  anchor  ropes,  and 
quickly  tow  the  target  around  a  bend  of  the  river  out  of  sight; 
so  the  firing  had  to  be  made  at  other  objects  of  an  unmeasured 
distance. 
26 


402  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

I  gave  them  lunch,  setting  the  tables  in  one  of  the  great 
bomb-proofs,  as  the  house  was  not  large  enough,  and  then  took 
the  ladies  all  about  the  quarters.  The  view  from  our  window 
was  very  beautiful,  overlooking  the  river  and  the  Virginia  shore 
opposite.  About  five  miles  below  was  Fort  Washington,  very 
picturesque,  but  regarded  nearly  useless,  as  stone  forts  had 
been  proved  not  strong  enough  to  withstand  modern  artillery. 
It  was,  however,  garrisoned  at  this  time. 

We  officers'  wives  made  many  excursions  about  the  country. 
I  remember  once  we  went  by  boat  (there  was  a  small  tug  at  all 
times  in  service  at  our  fort)  to  Alexandria,  there  took  ambu 
lances  and  went  to  Arlington  House,  Contraband  Camp,  Sol 
diers'  Best,  and  several  other  places  in  Virginia. 

At  another  time  we  went  to  Mount  Vernon,  but  were  very 
glad  to  get  back  in  our  own  little  boat  without  being  fired 
upon.  Mount  Vernon  was  considered  neutral  ground,  but  the 
river  on  each  side  was  infested  with  rebel  guerrilla  bands  that 
made  the  trip  dangerous.  Another  time  we  went  to  Fairfax 
Court  House,  crossing  the  river,  and  using  an  ambulance  on 
the  Virginia  side. 

The  only  time  my  baby  was  sick  in  camp  was  at  Fort  Foote. 
She  was  seriously  ill  at  midnight.  We  called  the  young  sur 
geon,  Dr.  Chamberlain,  but  felt  that  he  didn't  know  much 
about  babies,  being  a  very  young  man.  (He  confessed  to  me 
privately  afterwards  that  this  was  the  first  time  that  he  had 
been  called  upon  to  attend  a  baby.)  At  daylight  my  husband 
started  with  the  little  tug-boat  for  Washington  for  Dr.  Verdi 
and  his  mother.  He  arrived  while  the  family  were  at  break 
fast.  He  told  what  was  the  matter,  and  said,  "Where  is 
mother?"  His  father  answered,  "She  has  been  sick  in  bed  for 
a  week."  "I  am  so  sorry,"  he  said,  "I  wanted  to  take  her  back 
with  me."  "She  will  go,"  was  the  reply.  "But  she  can't  if  she 
is  sick  in  bed."  "I  am  sure  she  will  go  when  she  learns  Nelly 
is  sick,"  said  his  father.  And  sure  enough,  when  my  husband 
went  to  her  room,  he  found  her  in  bed,  but  when  he  said,  "Nelly 
is  sick;  I  have  come  for  Dr.  Verdi,"  she  got  right  up,  saying, 
"I  shall  go  with  you,"  and  in  less  than  an  hour  she  and  the 
doctor  were  on  the  little  boat  hurrying  down  the  river  in  a 
heavy  storm,  which  tossed  the  boat  about  and  drenched  the 
occupants.  Such  was  her  beautiful,  unselfish  character,  put- 
ing  aside  her  own  ills  when  she  could  help  the  other  members 


PERSONAL    EXPERIENCES    OF    THE    CIVIL    WAR.  403 

of  her  family.  You  can  imagine  how  relieved  I  was  when  she 
and  the  doctor  came  in  at  the  door. 

Our  tug  went  once  each  day  to  Washington  for  the  mail  and 
supplies.  My  windows  overlooked  the  winding  road  down  the 
steep  bluff  to  the  river,  and  we  were  always  interested  to  see 
who  was  coming  and  going,  but  saddened  when  we  heard,  as 
we  frequently  did,  the  beat  of  the  muffled  drum,  and  watched 
the  solemn  procession,  marching  down  to  the  boat,  with  flag 
furled,  guns  reversed,  and  slow  step,  following  some  soldier 
who  had  finished  his  service  for  his  country. 

One  day  in  April  Major  Taft  came  and  asked  me  if  I  could 
keep  a  secret,  as  he  needed  my  assistance.  The  officers  were 
going  to  present  the  lieutenant  colonel  with  a  sword.  I  kept 
the  secret,  and  assisted  in  making  the  arrangements.  On  the 
24th  of  April,  I  wrote  to  my  mother,  expressing  regret  that  she 
had  been  obliged  to  go  home  before  the  presentation,  saying: 

"Will  never  suspected  a  thing.  Colonel  Haskins,  a  one-armed 
Mexican  veteran,  in  command  of  our  division,  and  party  came 
down  about  12  o'clock.  Cornelius  Underwood  and  daugh 
ter  and  Mr.  Patty  arrived  on  the  mail-boat.  I  did  not  see  much 
of  Mr.  Patty,  he  is  so  shy,  but  he  had  Nelly  in  his  arms  during 
the  presentation.  After  that,  the  companies  were  formed  into 
a  hollow  square.  Will  was  standing  near  Colonel  Haskins, 
and  I  near  him.  We  were  all  by  the  house;  had  seats  under 
the  trees.  As  the  square  was  formed,  two  men  started 
from  headquarters,  one  with  a  table,  the  other  with  the  box. 
When  Will  saw  that,  he  said,  'Well,  what  is  all  this  about?' 
Colonel  Haskins  said,  'I  think  it  is  time  you  knew;  there  is  to 
be  a  sword  presentation  here  to-day;  that's  what  it  all  means.' 
Then  I  asked  Will  if  he  didn't  know  about  it.  He  said,  'No, 
this  is  the  first.'  We  were  all  invited  inside  the  square,  and 
Captain  William  Wood  made  a  very  handsome  presentation 
speech.  Will  appeared  perfectly  cool  and  self-possessed,  re 
ceived  the  sword  very  gracefully,  and  made  a  neat  little  speech 
in  return.  I  was  so  sorry  you  were  not  here.  I  know  that  you 
would  have  been  as  proud  of  Will  as  I  was.  He  commenced 
by  saying  he  was  perfectly  surprised,  although  he  knew  an 
officer  should  never  be  surprised,  but  they  must  make  allow 
ance  for  him,  as  he  was  only  a  volunteer.  After  that  the  sword, 
sash  and  belt  were  put  on,  and  Will  conducted  a  short  drill, 
after  which  I  invited  all  in  to  lunch.  We  had  sandwiches, 


404  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

oysters,  raw  and  stewed,  coffee,  cake  and  pickles.  We  enter 
tained,  I  should  think,  about  forty  people;  had  plenty  for  them, 
and  everything  was  satisfactory,  the  guests  leaving  between 
4  and  5  o'clock.  It  is  so  warm  now  that  we  do  not  need  fires. 
Nelly  is  out  of  doors  most  of  the  time.  The  trees  at  the  back  of 
the  house  are  nearly  in  full  leaf.  It  seems  to  me  as  if  I  could 
see  them  open." 

On  May  10th,  about  9  o'clock  in  the  morning,  came  orders 
for  my  husband,  with  his  command,  to  report  to  Colonel  Well 
ing,  at  Arlington,  Va.  As  soon  as  possible,  we  packed  up  as 
many  things  as  we  could  take,  leaving  the  rest.  I  wrote,  "I 
came  up  to  Washington  on  the  tug-boat  at  2  o'clock,  leaving 
just  as  the  companies  marched  down  to  take  their  boats.  It 
is  real  hard  to  leave  such  a  pleasant  place,  although  I  had 
been  expecting  it  for  a  week." 

Our  regiment  was  sent  from  Arlington  to  Fort  Richardson, 
and  from  there  to  Fort  Reynolds,  where  the  lieutenant  colonel's 
headquarters  was  in  an  old-fashioned  farm-house.  Soon  after, 
the  regiment  being  ordered  to  the  front,  my  husband  came  for 
me  one  morning  with  an  ambulance,  and  we  went  to  Alexan 
dria  and  purchased  such  necessary  articles  as  he  thought  he 
could  carry  with  him,  packing  them  in  a  small  mess-chest. 
One  thing  I  remember  was  a  piece  of  dried  beef,  which  he  after 
wards  tied  to  the  bow  of  his  saddle,  and  carried  as  long  as  it 
lasted,  cutting  off  a  piece  occasionally  on  the  march.  I  went 
back  with  him  to  the  old  farm-house,  staying  until  the  next 
day.  While  there,  I  sewed  his  two  army-blankets  together, 
making  a  sleeping  bag,  which  he  afterwards  used  most  of  the 
time  when  they  were  without  tents. 

On  the  18th  of  May,  1864,  the  9th  Artillery  came  together 
and  marched  to  Belle  Plain.  Nelly  and  I  were  with  Mr.  Sew- 
ard  in  Washington.  I  was  sure  to  stay  in  the  house,  fearing 
that  my  husband  might  come  and  find  me  away.  He  did  come 
on  the  afternoon  of  the  21st  of  May,  saying  that  they  were 
ordered  to  join  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  and  that  Colonel 
Welling  had  come  up  with  him  and  resigned  his  commission, 
as  he  would  not  go  to  the  front.  After  he  had  finished  his 
business  with  Colonel  Welling  at  the  War  Department,  he  had 
time  only  for  a  hurried  dinner;  then  Mr.  Seward  and  I  went 
with  him  to  the  river,  where  we  found  the  boat  that  had 
brought  him  up  waiting,  and  he  left  us. 


PERSONAL    EXPERIENCBS   OF   THE    CIVIL    WAR.  405 

The  next  day  being  Sunday,  Mr.  Seward  took  Fanny  and  me 
with  several  friends  down  the  river,  to  go,  as  he  said,  "to  Belle 
Plain  to  see  William."  It  was  a  bad  day,  the  river  was  rough,  and 
when  we  arrived,  it  was  too  rough  to  make  the  landing,  and 
much  to  my  grief,  the  boat  turned  and  we  started  back.  Fanny 
and  I  strained  our  eyes  looking,  but  could  not  see  even  a  tent, 
so  we  sat  out  of  sight  of  the  rest  of  the  party  and  had  a  good 
cry,  we  were  so  disappointed. 

The  next  day  we  found  that  the  regiment  had  left  Belle 
Plain  early  Sunday  morning,  so  we  could  not  have  found  them 
had  we  landed. 

Soon  after  this,  my  husband  was  appointed  colonel,  receiv 
ing  his  commission  just  as  he  was  going  into  the  battle  of  Cold 
Harbor.  We  did  not  even  hear  from  him  for  weeks.  After 
dinner  I  always  went  upstairs  and  stayed  while  the  nurse  went 
to  her  dinner.  On  the  evening  of  the  1st  of  June,  while 
sitting  in  the  twilight,  I  heard  my  husband  call  "Jenny."  I 
jumped  up,  listened,  and  heard  again,  "Jenny,"  so  distinctly 
that  I  went  into  the  hall,  and  again  came  the  voice,  "Jenny,"  so 
plain  I  looked  over  the  railing,  fully  expecting  to  see  him  coming 
up  the  stairs.  There  was  no  one  there,  and  I  went  back  dis 
appointed,  thinking  how  strange  it  was.  Afterwards,  I  found 
that  this  occurrence  took  place  at  the  very  hour  that  he  was  in 
the  Battle  of  Cold  Harbor,  and  came  very  near  losing  his  life. 

I  stayed  in  Washington,  hoping  to  hear  from  my  husband, 
until  the  weather  was  so  warm  that  Nelly  became  ill,  and  Mr. 
Seward  said,  "My  daughter,  it  is  not  safe  to  keep  that  little 
girl  here  any  longer;  I  promise  you  I  will  send  you  the  news 
of  William  immediately  we  receive  any."  The  nurse  and  I 
packed  our  trunks,  and  John  Butler,  a  trusted  colored  servant, 
went  with  us  to  New  York,  and  put  us  on  the  train  for  Auburn, 
after  spending  the  night  at  the  Astor  House. 

Oh!  what  a  dreadful  long  waiting  that  was!  No  word,  only 
news  of  terrible  battles  every  day.  The  first  news  that  we  re 
ceived  was  a  few  words  written  on  a  piece  of  brown  paper  from 
Colonel  MacDougall,  saying,  "I  have  just  seen  Will  at  Cold 
Harbor,  and  he  is  all  right.  Had  a  hard  fight,  in  which  most 
of  his  clothes  were  torn  from  him." 

A  letter  from  Quartermaster  Knowles,  written  June  4th, 
1864,  received  two  weeks  later,  said,  "I  left  there  after  their 
first  day's  fight,  June  1st.  It  was  a  very  hotly  contested  bat- 


406  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

tie.  The  colonel  and  Major  Taft  got  through  all  right,  and 
were  so  up  to  8  o'clock  to-night.  The  colonel  got  a  rap  over  the 
head  with  a  rebel  gun  or  sword,  and  had  one  leg  of  his  pants 
torn  off,  and  his  satchel  stolen  from  Banty  off  his  horse  that 
night,  as  all  officers  were  ordered  to  dismount  and  send  their 
horses  to  the  rear.  We  have  been  assigned  to  the  2d  Brigade. 
3d  Division,  6th  Corps,  which  is  his  address.  Pardon  the  lib 
erty  I  have  taken,  and  be  assured  you  have  my  best  wishes  and 
constant  prayer  for  the  success  and  safety  of  our  dear  colonel 
commanding,  and  accept  the  assurances  of  my  sincere  regards 
and  sympathy  for  yourself,  from  one  who  feels  sincerely  and 
truly  your  friend.  Henry  P.  Knowles." 

All  of  our  letters  were  a  long  time  in  reaching  us.  One  I 
have  dated  June  5th,  was  received  by  me  on  the  20th.  Of 
course,  our  letters  were  equally  long  in  reaching  the  camps. 

I  think  you  will  be  interested  if  I  tell  you  how  our  regiment 
on  one  occasion  threw  up  their  breastworks.  My  husband 
wrote  a  letter  dated  "In  the  field  about  three  miles  south  of 
Petersburgh,"  saying,  "Orders  were  then  received  for  the  first 
line  of  battle  to  intrench  themselves.  My  regiment  being 
larger  than  all  the  rest  of  the  brigade,  we  composed  the  front 
line,  and  to  throw  up  breastworks  without  a  single  tool  of  any 
description  was  not  an  easy  matter.  I,  however,  divided  the 
regiment  into  two  single  lines,  and  had  the  first  loosen  the 
earth  with  their  bayonets,  and  the  second  line  throw  it  up  in 
the  form  of  breastworks,  using  their  tin  cups  and  plates  in 
place  of  shovels.  In  one  hour  from  the  time  I  received  the 
order,  we  had  a  fine  work  at  least  five  feet  high.  The  continual 
shower  of  rebel  bullets  accelerated  the  work." 

On  Sunday  morning,  July  10th,  I  was  staying  at  my  mother's, 
when  about  noon,  my  sister,  Mrs.  Pomeroy,  and  her  husband 
came  in.  Mr.  Pomeroy  said,  "There  was  a  battle  at  Monocacy, 
Maryland,  yesterday."  I  said,  "Will  could  not  have  been  in 
that,  as  he  is  down  in  front  of  Petersburgh,  Va."  "No,"  he  re 
plied,  the  9th  Artillery  were  in  the  battle."  I  looked  at  him 
startled,  and  he  then  said,  "It  is  reported  that  Will  is  wounded 
and  taken  prisoner." 

At  the  request  of  Mr.  Pomery,  the  telegraph  office  was  kept 
open  all  that  day  and  the  following  night,  and  he  and  Mr.  Bost- 
wick  took  turns  in  watching  the  news  that  passed  over  the 
wires.  The  telegraph  and  railroad  lines  beween  Baltimore  and 


PERSONAL    EXPERIENCES   OP   THE    CIVIL    WAR.  407 

Washington  had  been  cut  off  by  the  rebels,  so  the  news  from 
there  was  received  through  couriers  to  Annapolis.  I  went  to 
Mrs.  Seward,  and  we  concluded  to  pack  our  trunks,  and  be 
ready  to  start  for  Washington  as  soon  as  railroad  communica 
tions  were  reopened.  All  night  my  two  brothers-in-law  waited 
and  watched  until  2  o'clock,  when  a  despatch  came,  saying, 
"Colonel  Seward  wounded,  but  not  a  prisoner."  Major  Taft 
was  shot  and  lost  his  leg.  Surgeon  Chamberlain  stayed  with 
him,  and  both  were  taken  prisoners. 

My  husband's  horse  was  shot  under  him,  and  falling  upon 
him,  broke  his  ankle.  He  also  received  a  slight  wound  in  the 
arm.  He  escaped  being  taken  prisoner  from  the  fact  of  his 
having  on  a  private's  uniform,  as  he  had  lost  his  own  at  the 
Battle  of  Cold  Harbor.  After  the  rebel  line  had  passed  over 
him,  he  crawled  on  the  ground  to  a  piece  of  woods,  where  he 
found  a  mule,  which,  with  the  help  of  a  straggler,  he  mounted, 
using  his  red  silk  pocket  handkerchief  for  a  bit  and  bridle,  and 
rode  about  fifteen  miles  during  the  night  to  Ellieott's  Mills,  and 
overtook  his  retreating  regiment.  He  was  taken  to  Washing 
ton,  and  after  five  days  he  came  home  to  us.  I  shall  never 
forget  how  shocked  his  sister  Fanny  and  I  were,  when  we  met 
him  at  the  depot,  to  see  how  thin  and  worn  he  looked;  but  how 
happy  we  were  to  have  him  with  us,  and  to  nurse  him  back  to 
health.  It  was  a  singular  coincidence,  that  this  mule  was  one 
of  my  husband's  own  pack  mules.  Having  two,  his  orderly, 
Henry  Rooker,  had  ridden  away  on  one,  leaving  this  one  to  her 
fate.  They  were  brought  home,  and  Mrs.  Chesebro,  my  hus 
band's  cousin,  kept  them  both  on  her  farm  on  Canandaigua  lake 
until  they  died,  taking  especial  care  of  "Jenny,"  as  she  called 
her,  for  bringing  her  master  safely  away  from  the  rebels. 

His  horse  lay  on  the  field  with  a  wound  in  the  neck,  appar 
ently  dead,  but  shortly  after  recovering  from  the  shock,  fol 
lowed  the  troops,  overtook  the  retreating  orderly  on  the  mule, 
who,  seeing  the  blood  streaming  from  the  poor  animal's  neck, 
staunched  its  flow  with  the  contents  of  his  tobacco  pouch,  and 
took  him  to  Washington,  where  his  wound  was  properly  cared 
for.  He  continued  in  my  husband's  service.  The  following 
winter,  in  Martinsburgh,  when  he  was  harnessed  to  an  ambu 
lance  in  order  to  take  General  Custer  and  his  bride  to  Win 
chester,  he  resented  the  indignity,  and  kicked  the  vehicle  to 
pieces. 


408  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

In  September,  my  husband  received  a  commission  as  briga 
dier  general,  conferred  upon  him  for  his  service  at  the  Battle  of 
Monocacy. 

Early  in  October,,  he  was  ordered  to  take  command  of  a  bri 
gade  in  the  Shenandoah  valley,  with  headquarters  at  Martins- 
burgh;  and  although  there  were  constant  raids  and  skirmishes 
with  the  rebels,  there  was  not  the  continual,  terrible  anxiety 
for  us  women  at  home  that  there  was  before. 

On  the  10th  of  November,  our  son  William  was  born.  His 
father  had  a  fifteen  days'  leave  of  absence  to  come  home  and 
make  his  son's  acquaintance.  This  occurrence  ended  my  per 
sonal  army  life,  as  it  was  a  little  too  much  for  me  to  go  into 
army  quarters  with  two  babies. 

Soon  after  my  husband  returned  to  Martinsburgh,  where  he 
remained  during  the  winter  of  1864  and  '65.  I  had  two  severe 
trials.  My  nurse  was  taken  sick  and  died;  and  the  night  that 
her  remains  lay  in  the  room  opposite  to  mine,  I  received  a 
letter  from  Captain  Knowles,  telling  me  that  my  husband  was 
very  sick.  I  felt  that  I  was  indeed  deserted  and  everything  was 
going  wrong. 

In  April,  1865,  my  husband  and  my  brother,  George  Watson, 
who  was  an  aide-de-camp,  rank  lieutenant,  on  General  Seward's 
staff,  were  at  home  on  a  short  leave  of  absence.  They  started 
for  Martinsburgh  on  the  night  of  April  13th.  In  the  morning 
of  April  14th,  my  mother,  who  was  keeping  me  company  for  the 
night,  and  I  were  awakened  early  by  a  servant  coming  to  tell 
us  that  the  man  had  heard  that  the  president  had  been  killed, 
Mr.  Seward  and  Mr.  Frederick  were  killed,  and  Colonel  Au 
gustus  nearly  killed,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  family  wounded. 
Of  course,  we  were  in  great  excitement. 

About  7.30  the  side  door-bell  rang  furiously.  Eliza  went  to  the 
door,  and  we  heard  a  woman's  voice,  very  loudly  and  excitedly 
saying,  "I  want  to  see  Mrs.  Seward.  I  must  see  Mrs.  Seward." 
Eliza  said,  "Well,  you  can't  see  her."  Mother  went  to  the  door 
and  asked  what  she  wanted.  She  only  said,  "I  must  see  Mrs. 
Seward."  I  started  to  go  to  the  door,  but  Eliza  pushed  me 
back,  putting  her  arms  around  me,  saying,  "Don't  go,  don't  go, 
she  wants  to  kill  you  too,  I  know  she  does,  she  looks  so  crazy." 
Mother  would  not  let  the  woman  in  through  the  door,  and 
finally  shut  it.  I  said,  "Mother,  let  me  see  what  the  woman 
wants."  Mother  replied,  "She  will  not  tell  what  she  wants, 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  409 

and  she  looks  so  wild,  I  do  not  think  it  safe  for  you  to  see  her." 
The  servants  insisted  that  the  woman  intended  to  kill  Mrs. 
Seward.  I  always  regretted  that  I  could  not  have  gotten  to 
her,  as  she  might  have  had  some  valuable  information  to  give 
me.  She  came  and  went  in  a  hack,  evidently  just  arrived  on  the 
train. 

Soon  telegrams  began  to  arrive,  telling  of  the  dreadful  assas 
sination.  My  husband  heard  the  awful  news,  upon  his  arrival 
in  Baltimore,  early  in  the  morning.  All  the  trains  to  Wash 
ington  were  stopped.  He  telegraphed  to  the  secretary  of  war, 
who  at  once  ordered  an  especial  engine,  which  took  him,  with 
my  brother,  immediately  to  Washington,  where  they  found  the 
house,  of  course,  in  the  greatest  confusion.  My  husband  re 
mained  at  the  bedside  of  his  wounded  father  and  brothers,  and 
cared  for  his  mother  until  her  death,  on  June  21st,  1865.  The 
war  having  ended,  he  resigned  his  commission  on  June  1st. 


CHAPTER     XXIX. 

PERSONAL  SKETCHES. 

Asahel  M.  Abbey. — Lieutenant  Abbey  was  one  of  the  22d 
Independent  Battery  boys;  starting  as  a  sergeant,  he  left  the 
service  as  1st  lieutenant. 

He  was  born  in  Genesee  county  June  24,  1837;  was  prepared 
for  college  in  the  Gary  Collegiate  Institute  of  Oakfield,  N.  Y., 
and  entered  Hobart  College  in  Geneva,  remaining  till  his  junior 
year.  When  the  war  came  it  found  him  a  medical  student. 

For  a  number  of  years  his  home  has  been  in  Kichland,  Kala- 
mazoo  county,  Mich. 

Edwin  A.  Bishop. — A  native  of  Guilford,  Conn.,  1834;  came 
to  Ontario  in  1858,  and  went  thence,  with  Company  B,  to  the 
war.  Returning,  he  moved  to  Rochester  in  1868,  following  his 
trade  of  house-painting. 

He  has  been  the  commander  of  C.  J.  Powers  Post,  G.  A.  Re, 
and  in  1890  was  one  of  the  department  delegates  to  the  National 
Encampment  in  Boston. 

He  takes  an  active  interest  in  company  and  regiment,  and 
several  years  since  read  a  very  entertaining  paper  on  the  same 
before  a  reunion  of  Company  B. 


410  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Alonzo  Bowen. — In  war-times  Comrade  Bowen  found  all  the 
fun  that  ever  came  his  way.  Two  pictures  in  this  volume  faint 
ly  portray  some  of  the  nonsense  in  which  he  indulged  and  which 
was  of  the  utmost  good  to  his  associates,  since  it  kept  their 
spirits  up. 

Since  the  war  he  has  found  a  home  in  Monroe,  Mich.,  where  as 
a  maker  and  dispenser  of  a  specific  for  human  ills  he  is  achiev 
ing  fame  and  success. 

George  W.  Brinkerhoff. — A  Wolcott  boy,  he  came  from  that 
part  of  the  town  known  as  Red  Creek.  Born  October  23d,  1838, 
he  had  just  got  a  good  start  in  his  majority  when  the  call  to 
arms,  in  1862,  drew  him  into  the  ranks  of  Company  A,  and  with 
Captain  Snyder  he  marched  away  to  perils,  duty,  and  the  proud 
consciousness  of  serving  his  country. 

His  youth  had  the  educational  advantages  that  his  town 
afforded,  while  his  early  manhood  was  devoted  to  a  broader 
and  more  exacting  school,,  viz.,  that  of  the  soldier.  Leaving  his 
young  wife  behind  him,  he  became  one  of  the  best  soldiers  in 
the  company,  and  went  to  Washington  as  a  sergeant.  By  well 
earned  and  regular  promotion  he  came  home  as  brevet  major. 
No  officer  was  ever  more  thoroughly  respected  than  the  third 
and  last  captain  of  A  Company. 

When  the  war  was  over,  he  returned  to  his  home  and  again 
became  one  of  those  who  constitute  the  true  back-bone  of  every 
nation,  a  farmer.  While  thus  laboring  at  the  very  foundation 
of  prosperity,  his  fellow  citizens  have  recognized  his  merits  re 
peatedly  in  electing  him  to  town  office,  and  in  1891  sending  him 
to  the  Legislature  as  Assemblyman  for  eastern  Wayne.  In 
Albany  he  was  the  same  painstaking  legislator  that  those  who 
knew  him  as  a  soldier  expected  him  to  be.  While  interested  in 
all  the  legislation  of  the  session,  perhaps  his  most  conspicuous 
service  was  the  securing  of  the  abolition  of  fees  for  county 
clerks  and  sheriffs.  At  the  present  time,  1899,  he  is  supervisor 
of  the  town  of  Wolcott. 

To  him  and  his  wife,  who  was  Maria  Frost,  sister  of  a  fellow 
Company  A  man,  have  been  born  four  children,  Lester,  Ernest, 
Eliza  and  Delia.  Entrenched  upon  his  200-acre  farm,  with  his 
family  and  the  proud  recollection  of  duty  done,  what  more  could 
he  ask?  In  foreign  lands  such  services  and  such  possessions 
would  suggest  knighthood,  but  our  country  does  better,  since 
in  his  quiet  life,  though  alert  and  alive  to  the  needs  of  the  day, 


REV.    REUBEN   BURTON, 
COMPANY  B. 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  411 

we  dub  him  that  proudest  of  all  titles  worn  by  any  man  on  the 
earth  to-day,  viz.,  an  honest  American  citizen. 

Aldace  W.  Brower. — Comrade  Brower  is  one  of  the  promi 
nent  citizens  of  Sodus,  having  charge  of  the  railroad-station  at 
the  Center;  for  twenty  years  he  was  postmaster. 

Albert  H.  Bull. — A  Huron  boy,  Comrade  Bull  did  not  see 
quite  enough  of  army  service  in  the  Ninth,  so  after  the  war  he 
enlisted  in  the  U.  S.  A.,  and  was  a  sergeant  in  Company  B,  42d, 
and  Company  F,  6th  Infantry.  After  years  of  arduous  duty, 
he  now  resides  in  Warren,  O. 

Reuben  Burton. — He  has  been  so  long  and  so  favorably 
known  as  the  Rev.  Reuben  Burton  of  Syracuse  that  his  plain 
unhandled  name  may  hardly  be  recognized.  Born  in  Clyde,  the 
son  of  Hiram  Burton,  a  thrifty  and  respected  farmer,  he  had  the 
advantages  of  the  local  schools  and  then  began  a  college  pre 
paratory  course  in  the  Red  Creek  Academy,  from  which  he  was 
summoned  by  the  call  to  arms  in  1862.  He  easily  gained  the 
grade  of  sergeant  to  begin  with,  and  in  that  capacity  served 
for  more  than  a  year,  dividing  his  time  among  drill,  clerical 
work  at  regimental  headquarters  and  teaching  in  the  school 
organized  at  Fort  Mansfield.  Later  he  received  a  commission  as 
2d  lieutenant,  and  was  assigned  to  I  and  then  to  B.  While  serv 
ing  with  B  at  Monocacy  and  through  the  burning  of  the  bridge, 
he  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy  and  endured  a  long  imprison 
ment,  lasting  into  the  following  spring. 

He  was  at  first  confined  in  the  Richland  county  (S.  C.)  jail, 
and  afterwards  in  the  "Asylum  Camp"  of  Columbia,  S.  C.  Soon 
after  his  return  to  duty,  he  was  assigned  to  staff  service,  and  in 
this  capacity  reached  the  time  of  muster-out  for  the  regiment. 
Meantime  he  had  been  commissioned  1st  lieutenant,  and  urged 
by  Major  Lamoreaux,  who  was  to  command  the  9th  Battalion 
in  the  2d  Heavy,  he  consented  to  remain,  and  was  again  placed 
on  staff-duty.  The  generals  with  whom  he  served  regarded  his 
work  as  most  satisfactory,  and  General  Whistler,  commanding 
the  brigade,  wrote  across  the  lieutenant's  parchment,  "A  brave 
and  competent  officer."  The  duty  given  to  Lieutenant  Burton 
to  perform  was  of  the  most  arduous  and  exacting  nature,  and 
had  before  his  assignment  been  performed  by  a  major. 

Coming  home  from  the  army,  our  lieutenant  gave  up  his 
ministerial  aspirations  that  had  been  his  through  his  earlier 
years,  and  went  into  business,  but  the  call  that  he  had  received 


412  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

was  of  a  character  that  he  could  not  ignore,  and  though  he  was 
married,  having  in  1867  been  united  to  Miss  Janette  Waldruff 
of  Galen,  he  determined  to  begin  over  again  the  work  dropped 
when  he  enlisted.  Accordingly  he  went  to  Eochester  and  pur 
sued  five  years'  course  in  the  University  and  Theological  School 
of  that  city,  and  was  ordained  in  1876. 

Having  been  baptized  in  the  Baptist  Church  of  Clyde,  in 
which  his  father  had  long  been  a  deacon,  he  very  naturally 
entered  upon  the  ministry  of  that  denomination,  and  his  voice 
for  more  than  twenty  years  has  been  one  of  the  most  popular 
in  western  New  York.  All  his  church-work  has  been  in  his 
native  state,  and  for  the  most  part  in  the  western  portion  there 
of. 

In  1889  he  began  the  organization  of  a  wholly  new  enterprise 
in  the  city  of  Syracuse.  He  began  his  labors  in  a  hired  hall, 
but  now  the  church  numbers  525  members,  and  the  Sunday- 
school  has  a  membership  of  over  700.  A  new  edifice  has  been 
erected  with  a  seating  capacity  of  more  than  a  thousand;  but 
there  are  victories  yet  to  be  won,  and  our  reverend  lieutenant 
is  still  pressing  on  just  as  manfully  as  in  the  days  of  his  mili 
tant  career.  It  ought  to  be  stated  that  no  man  in  his  vicinity 
is  heard  on  patriotic  and  kindred  themes  more  eagerly  than 
Comrade  Burton. 

To  Lieutenant  Burton  and  wife  have  been  born  two  children, 
Lena  C.  and  H.  Grace;  the  former  is  the  wife  of  the  Rev.  How 
ard  I.  Andrews. 

Joseph  B.  Casterline. —  He  was  born  in  Clyde,  N.  Yv  June  21, 
1839,  and  was  married  to  Miss  Mary  E.  Bassett  of  Wolcott  Aug. 
5,  1862.  Then  came  his  enlistment,  or  more  properly  his  de 
parture,,  for  the  scenes  of  hostilities;  was  wounded  at  Cold  Har 
bor,  and  did  not  return  to  the  regiment  till  September  following. 
He  was  mustered  out  as  a  sergeant  of  Company  A. 

In  1881  he  moved  from  North  Wolcott  to  Wautoma,  Wis., 
where  he  now  resides.  His  people  have  appreciated  his  abilities, 
for  they  have  made  him  town  clerk  four  years;  justice  of  the 
peace  five  years,  and  supervisor  two  years;  also  he  has  been 
clerk  of  courts  two  terms  of  two  years  each. 

This  is  a  good  illustration  of  the  way  veterans  of  the  Ninth 
serve  their  country  when  the  people  recognize  their  good  quali 
ties. 

T.  J.  Chaddock. — Lieutenant  Chaddock  is  another  of  the  vet- 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  413 

erans  who  quickly  exchanged  the  garb  of  a  soldier  for  that  of 
a  farmer,  and  resumed  the  occupation  he  left  when  he  enlisted. 
His  family  has  long  been  resident  in  the  town  of  Rose,  and  as 
long  prominent  in  the  affairs  of  the  Baptist  Church,  in  which 
our  lieutenant  has  been  for  several  years  a  deacon.  Indeed,  in 
his  immediate  neighborhood,  he  is  more  frequently  addressed 
by  his  church  title  than  by  that  won  in  war-time. 

Dwight  S.  Chamberlain. — This  gentleman,  who  early  joined 
the  regiment  as  assistant  surgeon  and  who  succeeded  Dr.  Sabin 
when  the  latter  resigned,  is  one  of  the  best-known  citizens  of 
Wayne  county.  He  was  born  in  Litchfield  county,  Conn.,  Feb 
ruary  22d,  1839,  having  ancestors  who  had  borne  their  part  in 
the  War  of  the  Revolution.  His  education  was  received  at  the 
Genesee  Seminary  and  College  of  Lima,  N.  Y.,  and  at  the 
University  of  the  City  of  New  York,  from  whose  medical  depart 
ment  he  was  graduated  in  1862.  Then  followed  a  professional 
trip  to  England,  from  which,  in  1862,  he  came  into  the  138th  as 
assistant  to  Surgeon  Sabin.  After  the  resignation  of  the  latter, 
Dr.  Chamberlain  was  promoted  major  and  surgeon,  and  so  con 
tinued  to  the  end. 

Coming  as  he  did,  it  was  his  fortune  to  see  all  the  active 
service  of  the  Ninth,  and  to  impress  himself  on  the  men  as  a 
most  vigorous  and  efficient  officer.  Following  the  war,  he  was 
for  a  time  in  charge  of  the  Soldiers'  Home  and  Hospital  in  Syra 
cuse,  but  in  September,  1865,  he  came  to  Lyons  and  formed  a 
partnership  with  Dr.  E.  W.  Bottume,  at  that  time  one  of  the 
oldest  and  most  successful  practitioners  in  Wayne  county. 

In  1868  he  began  the  study  of  law,  and  was  admitted  to  its 
practice  in  1874,  since  which  time  he  has  largely  devoted  himself 
to  that  profession.  His  wife,  to  whom  he  was  married  in  1868, 
was  Katharine  M.,  daughter  of  the  late  D.  W.  Parshall,  and 
they  have  long  been  prominent  features  in  the  social  life  of 
Lyons. 

In  all  that  pertains  to  the  welfare  and  upbuilding  of  his 
adopted  village,  our  ex-surgeon  has  been  active  and  successful. 
The  Parshall  Memorial  Building,  erected  by  him,  is  an  elegant 
edifice,  containing  one  of  the  best-appointed  opera  houses  in 
the  state  outside  of  the  larger  cities.  Many  of  the  finest  busi 
ness  structures  in  the  village  are  the  property  of  himself  and 
wife.  They  also  possess  other  extensive  real-estate  and  farming 
lands  in  the  town  and  county.  Major  Chamberlain  is,  moreover, 


414  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

heavily  interested  in  banking,  and  perhaps  no  one  man  did  more 
than  himself  in  a  critical  moment  in  retaining  for  Lyons  the 
buildings  of  the  county  seat,  then  in  imminent  peril  of  going 
elsewhere.  Then  as  at  many  other  times  he  demonstrated  his 
possession  of  leadership. 

Much  of  the  development  of  Sodus  Point  as  a  summer  resort 
is  owing  to  our  ex-surgeon's  care  and  foresight,  and  frequenters 
of  that  interior  watering-place  will  acknowledge  the  justice  of 
this  statement. 

After  all,  the  survivors  of  the  Ninth  like  best  to  think  of  him 
as  the  one  whom  they  confronted  when  they  responded  to  the 
doctor's  call,  and  though  these  memories  are,  somehow,  mixed 
up  with  quinine  and  castor-oil,  yet  they  recall  him  as  one  who 
would  have  made  them  whole  and  thus  keep  them  up  to  the 
requirements  of  a  healthy  soldier's  standard. 

Alton  E.  Cobb. — Of  all  the  boys  who  took  in  the  winter  in 
Danville,  perhaps  no  one  was  better  known  than  Cobb.  All  of 
us  felt  particularly  thankful  for  the  blow  he  dealt  the  Confed 
eracy  when  the  rebel  officer  came  in  to  trade  breeches  during: 
the  giving  out  of  clothing,  in  the  month  of  February.  The 
Johnny  threatened  to  keep  us  there  all  the  spring,  but  his  forci 
ble  remarks  did  not  bring  back  his  Confederate  scrip. 

It  was  pleasant  to  note  the  luxuries  that  our  comrade's  party 
enjoyed  on  their  way  to  Richmond.  Again  the  adage,  "All's 
fair  in  war." 

Alton's  address  for  some  time  has  been  Scranton,  Penn. 

William  H.  Coombs. — Comrade  Coombs  of  Company  H  is  one 
of  the  veterans  who  have  found  homes  in  the  great  Southwest. 
He  is  living  now  in  San  Angelo,  Texas,  but  he  has  resided  in 
other  parts  of  the  state  as  well  as  in  Colorado.  Though  remote 
from  his  comrades  of  old,  he  keeps  pretty  well  posted  on  our 
whereabouts. 

John  L.  Crane. — Captain  Crane  was  born  in  Butler,  Wayne 
county,  June  23d,  1836 ;  fitted  for  college  in  Red  Creek  Academy 
and  entered  Union  College,  though  he  did  not  graduate;  studied 
law  in  Port  Byron,  and  was  admitted  to  practice  in  1859,  locat 
ing  in  Clyde.  After  his  return  from  the  army  he  went  West, 
and  died  in  Sauk  Center,  Minn.,  Dec.  8,  1874,  from  lung  disease 
contracted  in  his  army  life. 

John  E.  Dean. — The  last  sergeant  major  of  the  regiment  re 
sides  in  Newark,  O.  Of  Scotch-Irish  parentage,  he  was  born  in 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  415 

Locke,  Cayuga  county,  Aug.  1st,  1844;  was  graduated  from 
Auburn  Public  School  No.  5,  and  remained  in  or  near  the  city 
till  his  enlistment  under  Lieutenant  Howard  in  Company  I. 

He  began  as  private,  and  with  the  exception  of  a  short  fur 
lough  was  on  duty  all  the  time  to  the  end;  was  one  of  the  250 
when  in  the  valley  the  regiment  was  reduced  to  that  number. 
Being  detailed  at  headquarters  for  special  duty,  he  followed 
Guy  Brown  as  sergeant  major  when  the  latter  was  promoted 
lieutenant.  The  comrade  acknowledges  straggling  once  when 
we  were  making  that  rapid  march  to  Danville,  and  the  regi 
ment  covered  125  miles  in  four  days  and  five  hours.  The  ser 
geant  major  writes  most  pleasantly  of  his  memories  of  all  the 
officers  of  the  Ninth,  particularly  of  Welling,  Seward,  Snyder, 
Comstock,  Brown  and  Howard. 

In  1867  he  went  to  the  West,  and  for  two  years  was  clerk  of 
the  District  Court  in  Nebraska  City,,  afterwards  engaging  in 
mercantile  pursuits.  Coming  back  to  Ohio  in  1874,  he  has  re 
sided  there  since,  rearing  four  sons  to  perpetuate  his  name  and 
memory.  He  is  connected  with  the  business  house  of  P.  &  F. 
Corbin  of  New  York,  Philadelphia  and  Chicago. 

Walter  Deuel. — He  was  born  in  Stanford,  Dutchess  county, 
July  14,  1824,  and  spent  his  boyhood  on  a  farm,  getting  the 
usual  amount  of  district  school.  In  1848  he  took  a  westward 
trip  as  far  as  Frankfort,  Herkimer  county,  where  he  was  mar 
ried  to  Miss  Heziah  M.  Watson.  Thence  coming  to  Wayne 
county,  he  was  on  a  farm  till  his  enlistment  in  Company  D. 

After  the  muster-out  of  the  2d  Heavy,  to  which  he,  with  so 
many  others,  had  been  transferred,  he  came  back  shattered  in 
health  and  finally  located  in  Chittenango,  where  he  managed  a 
market-garden  and  greenhouse.  There,  March  27,  1887,  he  was 
stricken  with  apoplexy,  from  which  he  never  rallied. 

He  left  a  widow  and  two  sons,  one,  Dr.  W.  E.  Deuel  of  Chit 
tenango;  the  other,  Charles  S.,  recently  graduated  from  a  dental 
college. 

John  H.  De  Voe. — He  was  born  Sept.  8,  1846,  in  Butler;  was 
living  there  when  the  138th  was  raised,  and  it  would  appear 
that  he  was  sixteen  years  old  the  day  that  he  was  mustered  in 
as  drummer  of  Company  G.  With  the  exception  of  a  ten-days* 
furlough,  was  never  absent  from  the  regiment.  In  the  winter  of 
1862  and  '63  his  company  gave  him  a  beautiful  brass  drum, 
which  he  used  all  the  way  through,  and  now  retains,  and  whose 


416  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

picture  is  found  in  this  book.  It  met  with  a  sad  mishap  at  Cold 
Harbor,  where  a  cannon-ball  mashed  it  flat,  but  it  was  smoothed 
out,  and  now  graces  Memorial  and  other  parade  occasions. 

Hardly  more  than  a  boy  when  the  war  was  over,  he  went 
home  to  South  Butler,  and  attended  school  in  that  village,  hav 
ing  as  principal  that  excellent  scholar,  Albert  J.  Davis.  In 
1867  the  family  went  to  Illinois  and  settled  near  Marseilles. 
Alternating  between  teaching  and  attending  school,  working 
on  the  farm  between  whiles,  he  was  graduated  from  Grand 
Prairie  Seminary,  commercial  department,  1869.  The  following 
autumn  he  entered  Michigan  University,  remaining  through 
his  sophomore  year.  Then  receiving  an  offer  to  teach  in  Bland- 
ville  College,  Ky.,  he  accepted. 

Later  drifting  to  Chicago,  for  two  years  he  was  employed  in 
the  wholesale  dry-goods  house  of  J.  V.  Farwell  &  Co.  Then  he 
served  the  Chicago  &  Alton  Railroad  Company  at  Washington, 
Ills.  Here  he  was  married  to  Miss  Emma  Smith,  a  music 
teacher  of  Eureka  College,  who  has  in  these  later  years  acquired 
no  little  fame  as  a  speaker  for  the  National  Woman's  Suffrage 
Association. 

In  1881  Mr.  and  Mrs.  De  Voe  moved  to  Huron,  South  Dakota, 
near  which  they  founded  the  town  bearing  their  name  in  Faulk 
county.  He  was  a  very  prominent  factor  in  the  campaign  re 
sulting  in  the  division  of  the  state. 

In  1891  he  returned  to  Illinois,  locating  in  Harvey,  a  suburb 
of  Chicago,  and  which  is  now  his  home.  Soon  afterwards  he 
was  elected  police  magistrate  of  the  place,  and  in  the  period  of 
holding  this  office  studied  law,  being  admitted  to  the  bar  in 
1894.  At  present  he  is  in  mercantile  business  in  Harvey. 

Though  long  away  from  New  York,  Comrade  De  Voe  retains 
the  liveliest  recollections  of  the  former  days  and  of  his  old 
associates  in  the  regiment. 

Stephen  T.  Devoe. — Our  second  chaplain  clearly  belongs  to 
the  church  militant,  for  at  the  age  of  forty  years  he  enlisted 
in  Company  G,  and  was  its  first  sergeant,  when  on  the  resigna 
tion  of  Chaplain  Mudge,  he  was  made  his  successor.  Being  a 
regularly  ordained  minister  of  the  Free  Baptist  denomination, 
he  had  repeatedly  preached  while  doing  his  duty  in  the  camp. 
He  fought  well  at  Cedar  Creek,  and  the  boys  always  have  a 
good  word  for  the  chaplain,  who  with  the  weight  of  years  upon 
him  is  living  in  Wolcott.  He  writes  these  words:  "Among  the 


2D   LIEUT.    CHAUNCEY   FISH. 

COMPANY  B. 
Later,  1st  Lieutenant,  Captain,  and  Brevet  Major. 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  417 

earliest  of  my  recollections  are  the  lessons  taught  me  by  my 
father  and  mother  concerning  my  native  land,  America,  and  its 
government.  I  got  the  impression  that  this  was  the  best  gov 
ernment  in  the  broad  world,  and  it  thrilled  my  whole  being  to 

hear, 

'My  country,  'tis  of  thee.' 

"So  when  the  Civil  War  broke  out,  it  became  a  serious  study  to 
know  just  what  my  duty  was,  when  portending  disaster  threat 
ened  the  very  life  of  my  country." 

We  are  glad  that  duty  seemed  to  call  for  his  enlistment  and 
that  the  mantle  of  Chaplain  Mudge  fell  upon  such  excellent 
shoulders.  While  his  sense  of  hearing  is  dulling  fast  and  the 
shores  of  the  silent  sea  are  nearing,  memory  recalls  the  bugle 
sounds  of  other  days,  and  his  face  lights  up  at  thoughts  of  the 
time  when  he  heard  the  clarion-notes  of  duty's  call,  and  so 
heartily  responded. 

Walter  G.  Duckett. — There  were  those  who  liked  Washington 
so  well  that  they  concluded  to  remain  there.  Among  them  was 
the  young  man  who  had  served  the  2d  Battalion  in  the  capacity 
of  hospital  steward.  His  merits  in  this  line  of  duty  were  rec 
ognized,  and  he  was  transferred  to  the  U.  S.  A.,  remaining  till 
April,  1866. 

Locating  in  the  Capital  of  the  nation,  he  has  continued  to  do 
a  business  in  the  pharmaceutical  line  ever  since.  Few  veterans 
of  the  Ninth  fail  to  call  on  him  when  in  Washington,  and  they 
almost  made  his  store  their  headquarters  in  1892. 

John  F.  Failing. — The  long  time  efficient  hospital  steward 
of  the  Ninth  is  now  an  M.  D.  in  Grand  Rapids,  Mich.  It  is  a 
source  of  regret  that  more  extended  data  are  not  at  hand,  but 
he  lends  a  hand  to  the  making  of  this  book. 

Chauncey  Fish. — He  is  entitled  to  the  rank  of  major,  but 
somehow  to  a  great  many,  it  comes  more  natural  to  call  him 
"captain,"  just  a  little  nearer,  for  a  captain  is  in  close  contact 
with  those  who  follow,  and  when  we  look  at  the  origin  of  the 
word,  what  is  there  higher  than  the  head?  and  that  is  what  the 
word  comes  from. 

Of  Massachusetts  stock,  Chauncey  Fish  has  in  his  own  life 
and  in  that  of  his  sons  fully  exemplified  the  merits  of  his  ances 
tors,  who  repeatedly  stood  for  what  they  deemed  their  rights. 
His  parents,  Thomas  and  Sarah  (Gallop)  Fish,  settled  in  Wil 
liamson  in  1810,  and  there  in  1828,  January  22d,  our  captain 
27 


418  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

was  born,  the  second  of  nine  children.  His  wife  was  Phoebe  J. 
Cottrell,  also  of  Williamson,  and  of  New  Jersey  descent.  They, 
too,  have  had  nine  children,  of  whom  Myron  and  John  were 
members  of  the  same  company  with  their  father.  Myron  was 
killed  at  Winchester  in  1864,  and  John  died  in  1869. 

Captain  Fish  was  one  of  the  most  active  agents  in  the  rais 
ing  of  Company  B,  and  he  went  away  from  Auburn  as  1st 
sergeant.  Every  promotion  was  fairly  earned,  and  to  this  day 
no  officer  of  the  Ninth  enjoys  a  higher  degree  of  respect  than  the 
captain,  who  gave  time,  his  own  blood  and  that  of  his  son  in 
the  defense  of  country.  Afflicted  with  infirmities,  largely  re 
sulting  from  exposure  in  the  field,  he  has  tilled  his  farm  since 
the  war,  save  as  he  held  the  government  position  of  collector 
of  customs  in  Pultneyville,  which  place  he  filled  for  seven  years. 

No  door  in  Wayne  county  swings  open  to  an  old  soldier  any 
more  easily  than  that  of  the  captain's  house,  and  a  G.  A.  R. 
button  is  an  open  sesame  to  the  best  that  he  possesses.  Unless 
illness  prevents,  he  is  always  present  at  the  county  and  regi 
mental  reunions,  and  when  he  rises  to  speak  he  is  sure  of  at 
tentive  listeners,  for  every  one  knows  that  he  has  something  to 
say,  and  that  he  will  say  it.  He  belongs  to  the  Post  of  the  G. 
A.  R.  which  bears  the  name  of  his  boy  slain  in  battle. 

He  is  a  brevet  major,  having  received  that  title  from  Andrew 
Johnson  on  account  of  his  bravery  at  Sailor's  Creek.  He  retains 
with  a  deal  of  pride,  every  bit  of  which  is  pardonable,  a  letter 
from  Governor  Fenton  transmitting  the  commission,  and  the 
same  is  reproduced  here. 

State  of  New  York,  Executive  Department. 

Albany,  Nov.  8, 1866. 
Brevet  Major  Chauncey  Fish. 

Dear  Sir:  I  have  the  pleasure  to  transmit  herewith  a  brevet 
commission,  conferred  by  the  president  in  recognition  of  your 
faithful  and  distinguished  services  in  the  late  war. 

In  behalf  of  the  state,  allow  me  to  thank  you  for  the  gallantry 
and  devotion  which  induced  the  conspicuous  mention  by  the 
General  Government.  I  feel  a  lively  solicitude  in  all  that  re 
lates  to  the  honor  and  prosperity  of  the  soldiers  of  the  Union 
army,  and  especially  those  who  advanced  its  renown  while  de 
fending  the  cause  of  our  common  country. 

Very  respectfully, 

R.  E.  FENTON. 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  419 

Perhaps  the  signature  of  Edwin  M.  Stanton  affixed  to  the 
commission  gives  as  much,  if  not  more,  pleasure  than  that  of  the 
president. 

Mrs.  Fish  has  preceded  her  gallant  husband  to  the  other 
world  and  to  the  society  of  the  sons  who  went  even  earlier,  but 
seven  children  are  yet  here  to  enjoy  the  favor  in  which  their 
father  lives.  Whole-hearted,  devoted,  persevering,  honest,  Cap 
tain  Fish  survives,  a  magnificent  type  of  the  American  citizen 
soldier. 

Cyrus  E.  Fitch. — One  of  the  merry  boys  who  kept  the  camp 
in  good  humor,  or  at  least  did  his  part  towards  it,  was  "Cy'' 
Fitch  of  Company  A,  and  when  at  later  dates  his  brother, 
George,  his  cousin,  Irving,  and  his  uncle,  Allen,  appeared,  "those 
Fitches"  were  frequently  referred  to.  They  were  a  good  lot, 
from  the  youngest,  George,  up  to  Uncle  Allen,  who  acknowl 
edged  to  forty-four  years.  Irving  was  killed  at  Cedar  Creek, 
and  has  the  peculiar  distinction  of  a  headstone  in  Winchester 
National  Cemetery,  while  his  body,  with  another  memorial,  is 
buried  in  Wolcott.  George  and  the  uncle  have  both  answered 
to  the  roll-call  on  the  other  side,  since  the  war. 

Cyrus,  living  in  that  part  of  Butler  near  the  Wolcott  line, 
where  he  runs  a  farm  with  fruit-growing  and  evaporating  at 
tachments,  has  affiliations  with  the  latter  town,  but  he  has  been 
an  office-holder  in  his  own  town,  being  the  supervisor  for  at 
least  two  terms. 

He  is  one  of  the  regular  attendants  at  the  Wayne  county 
veterans'  reunions,  and  if  anything  is  to  be  done  to  help  along 
the  cause  of  the  Ninth,  he  is  ever  ready  to  assist. 

Dennis  E.  Flynn. — There  was  no  jollier  officer  in  the  regi 
ment  than  the  lieutenant  and  later  captain  who  first  saw  the 
light  in  the  city  of  Cork,  Ireland,  1833.  An  aunt  brought  him 
to  America  when  he  was  but  eight  years  old.  He  worked  upon 
a  farm  near  Auburn  till  he  was  about  eighteen;  then  he  went 
to  Port  Byron  and  clerked  in  a  grocery  till  1857,  when  he  moved 
to  Clyde,  starting  a  grocery  business  for  himself.  The  next 
year  he  was  married  to  Miss  Mary  Cavanaugh  of  Port  Byron, 
and  in  Clyde,  1862  found  him. 

He  raised  a  company  for  the  lllth,  but  for  some  reason  he  did 
not  go.  Then  came  the  next  regiment,  and  he  went  in,  as  we 
know.  His  merry  laugh  drove  away  many  a  fit  of  the  blues, 
and  if  he  himself  was  ever  down  in  the  mouth,  he  took  good  care 


420  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

that  others  should  not  know  it.  His  presence  was  better  than 
medicine.  He  got  a  little  touch  from  a  bit  of  a  shell  at  Cedar 
Creek,  but  was  not  seriously  hurt. 

Coming  home  from  the  war  he  resumed  business  in  Clyde, 
but  was  carried  off  by  disease  in  1873  at  the  age  of  forty.  Mem 
bers  of  his  family  continue  to  reside  in  Clyde,  justly  proud  of  the 
record  made  by  the  husband  and  father  in  the  days  when  every 
man  was  expected  to  show  his  colors. 

Charles  A.  Ford. — Kesident  in  Homer,  N.  Y.,  our  comrade 
has  long  suffered  from  an  illness  that  makes  him  a  member  of 
the  "Shut-in  Club/'  but  his  brain  is  active,  and  he  writes  ex 
cellent  verse,  bits  of  which  are  found  in  the  history.  He  also 
has  vivid  memories  of  war-times  and  draws  out  on  occasion  very 
pleasant  pictures  of  men  and  events  of  1864  and  '65. 

He  was  born  in  Genoa,  N.  Y.,  Sept.  12,  1844,  but  came,  when 
a  child,  with  his  parents  to  Homer.  Had  the  privileges  of  Cort- 
land  Academy,  but  at  sixteen  years  of  age  began  learning  the 
harness-making  trade.  Resumed  that  work  when  he  came  home 
from  the  war.  Was  married  in  1866,  and  has  reared  a  family 
of  five  children.  He  has  been  a  member  of  the  village  board 
and  town  clerk,  and  he  says  of  himself, 

"Am  waiting  now  for  orders 
To  cross  another  stream; 
Whose  further  shore 
Shall  know  no  more 
Of  war's  fierce  lurid  gleam." 

Philip  K.  Freeoff. — This  genial  officer  of  Company  I  was  born 
in  Gimbsheim,  Germany,  May  21,  1820.  He  had  had  military 
experience  in  his  native  land,  though  he  came  to  America  in 
1839  or  1840,  locating  in  Auburn,  which  continued  to  be  his 
home.  He  was  a  horticulturist,  and  his  greenhouses  and 
flowers  at  one  time  formed  a  great  attraction.  He  was  one 
of  the  directors  of  the  Gas  Company  in  1850 ;  was  an  alderman 
in  1853  and  '54;  was  a  member  of  the  Willard  Guard,  and  at 
the  time  of  his  enlistment  was  an  officer  in  the  state's  prison  in 
Auburn,  his  fellow  keepers  giving  him  a  sword  and  equipments ; 
the  sword,  beautifully  engraved,  was  carried  by  him  through 
out  the  war.  It  is  to-day  a  highly-prized  object  to  his  grandson 
and  namesake. 

During  the  campaign  of  1864  he  was  injured  in  one  eye,  losing 
the  sight  of  it.  His  military  record  is  told  in  that  of  Company 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  421 

I.  Coming  home  in  May,  1865,  he  lived  till  March  1st,  1879, 
when  he  passed  away  after  a  short  illness. 

Oscar  J.  Frost. — In  Company  A  we  always  called  him  ser 
geant,  and,  possibly,  some  of  his  Ked  Creek  fellow  citizens  do 
now,  but  the  time,  really  long,  seems  brief  since  the  Wolcott 
farmer  did  his  part  in  war-duties.  He  was  an  active,  alert  sol 
dier;  he  is  just  as  ready  and  persistent  now  as  a  man  of  affairs 
in  his  native  town. 

David  P.  Gamble. — A  veteran  of  Company  B,  Comrade  Gam 
ble  resides  in  East  Palmyra,  and  makes  a  specialty  of  essential 
oils,  peppermint,  spearmint  and  tansy,  those  peculiar  products 
of  Wayne  county. 

He  is  thoroughly  interested  in  all  that  pertains  to  the  pros 
perity  of  the  regiment. 

William  E.  Greenwood. — Lieutenant  Greenwood  of  Company 
B  represented  western  Wayne  in  the  Assembly  in  1872.  He  died 
in  West  Walworth  Aug.  5, 1898,  aged  sixty-eight  years. 

Truman  Gregory. — Captain  Gregory,  who  received  his  death- 
wound  at  Cold  Harbor,  having  received  the  commission  of 
major,  though  he  was  not  mustered,  was  a  Baptist  minister,  born 
in  Vermont;  at  least  so  claimed. 

He  was  preaching  in  Ontario  Centre  when  he  began  to  raise 
Company  B.  Before  this  he  had  preached  in  Richville,  St. 
Lawrence  county,  beginning  in  1852;  thence  going  West,  he  was 
in  Lee,  Avon  and  Berwick,  Illinois,  till  1856,  preaching  and 
farming.  Again  in  1857  he  was  in  Richville,  where  he  remained 
two  or  three  years. 

Apparently  he  came  to  Wayne  county  soon  afterwards,  and 
the  remainder  of  his  life  is  written  in  the  history  of  the  regi 
ment.  His  son,  Lyman,  was  in  the  same  company  with  him 
self. 

Daniel  B.  Harmon. — One  of  the  vivid  pictures  in  memory's 
gallery  is  that  of  Lieutenant  Harmon  at  Monocacy,  on  the  brow 
of  the  hill,  to  which  we  had  fallen  back,  with  his  sword  in  air, 
rallying  his  men  with  the  cry,  "Rally  round  the  flag,  men."  It 
is  pleasant  to  remember  him  in  that  attitude. 

He  was  born  in  Great  Barrington,  Mass.,  but  when  small 
came  with  his  father  to  York  state.  In  the  same  company 
there  were  three  brothers,  Daniel,  William  and  Alfred.  He  was 
by  trade  a  house  carpenter,  but  having  excellent  musical  ability, 
he  gave  much  time  to  that  art.  He  taught  many  a  singing- 
school  in  W^ayne  count}7. 


422  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Some  time  after  the  war  he  moved  away  from  Rose,  and  held 
several  contracts  for  work  on  the  Erie  canal.  At  the  time  of 
his  death,  April  30,  1896,  he  was  postmaster  at  Palmyra,  He 
was  in  his  sixty-second  year,  having  been  born  July  11,  1834. 

Truman  S.  Harvey. — Lieutenant  Harvey  has  made  Auburn 
his  home  for  many  years,  though  he  was  born  in  the  town  of 
Shelby,  Macomb  county,  Mich.,  May  25,  1840.  In  1849  he  became 
a  resident  of  Red  Creek,  and  in  1852  went  to  live  with  an  aunt 
in  Cayuga  county.  In  1857  he  had  the  benefits  of  Red  Creek 
Academy,  and  in  1859  began  learning  the  carpenter's  trade. 

His  military  record  appears  in  connection  with  Company  A. 
Since  the  war  he  has  worked  at  his  trade;  in  a  shop;  and  for  the 
last  eleven  years  has  been  foreman  of  the  woodworking  depart 
ment  of  the  New  Birdsall  Company,  makers  of  engines,  thresh 
ers  and  saw-mills. 

He  is  blessed  with  a  wife  and  four  children;  is  a  member  of 
the  Wall  Street  Methodist  Church,  and  for  twenty-eight  consec 
utive  years  superintendent  of  its  Sunday-school. 

Benjamin  F.  Hoffman. — Residing  at  Johnson's  Creek, Niagara 
county,  our  former  Company  G  sergeant  and  D  lieutenant  tills 
the  soil  and  claims  that  his  life  is  without  incident, — all  the 
more  useful,  possibly,  for  its  very  quiet. 

Charles  W.  Hough. — The  record  of  Captain  Hough  was  not 
duplicated  in  the  Ninth.  He  enlisted  as  private  in  Company  E, 
and  then  rose  through  the  grades  of  corporal,  sergeant,  sergeant 
major  to  2d  and  1st  lieutenant,  and  was  mustered  out  from  the 
2d  Heavy  Artillery  as  captain. 

He  saw  long  service  on  the  staffs  of  Generals  J.  A.  Haskin 
and  O.  B.  Wilcox  of  the  defenses.  He  is  now  the  treasurer  of 
the  Ward  Plow  Company  of  Batavia,  N.  Y. 

Orson  Howard. — Captain  H.  was  twenty-four  years  old  when 
he  was  mustered  in  as  1st  lieutenant  of  Company  I,  and  thus 
was  twenty-six  when  his  young  life  was  poured  out  at  Cedar 
Creek.  He  had  been  captain  of  Company  E  but  a  few  days 
when  the  ordeal  came.  The  portrait  of  the  young  officer  clearly 
indicates  qualities  which  made  him  a  popular  comrade,  one  of 
whom  the  friends  of  long  ago  always  speak  in  the  highest  terms. 

A  Company  E  man  who  was  in  the  battle  thus  describes  the 
final  hours  of  the  officer:  "In  the  afternoon  when  we  left  our 
works,  we  advanced  nearly  to  a  cleared  lot,  when  some  one  said 
the  rebs  were  charging  down  upon  us,  so  we  halted  a  short  time, 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  423 

but  found  it  to  be  a  false  alarm,  and  on  we  went.  We  soon  came 
to  the  cleared  field.  Somehow  or  other  I  lost  track  of  the  regi  • 
ment,  which  was  working  to  the  right.  The  field  was  fenced 
with  a  stone  wall,  at  least  one  was  on  the  east  and  south  sides; 
also  on  the  south  side  was  a  lane  with  stone-lined  sides.  It  was 
here  that  I  came  across  Captain  Howard,  who  was  in  the  same 
predicament  as  myself.  Together  we  passed  upon  the  west  side 
of  the  stone  fence  and  halted.  The  rebel  main  line  was  or 
seemed  to  be  in  this  lane.  About  this  time  we  thought  our  lines 
were  flanking  the  rebs  out  of  the  lane.  As  we  came  up  to  it 
we  found  a  great  number  of  the  enemy,  who  gave  up  as  pris 
oners.  We  took  their  guns  and  told  them  to  keep  quiet  till  the 
skirmish  line  came  up,  and  they  would  be  taken  care  of. 

"Then  the  captain  and  I,  being  nearly  alone,  bore  off  to  the 
left  over  uneven  ground  towards  the  pike.  We  passed  down 
quite  an  incline  to  a  valley,  which  had  a  rail-fence  across  it 
running  parallel  with  the  pike.  I  should  say  the  pike  was 
thirty  rods  away  from  us  square  to  the  front.  On  the  pike  was 
a  rebel  battery,  which  I  think  was  using  one  gun,  firing  directly 
at  us,  and  had  killed  and  wounded  some  of  our  men.  Captain 
Howard  said  it  was  of  no  use  for  us  to  charge  that  battery 
alone,  and  as  there  were  other  men  approaching,  he  said 
we  had  better  wait  till  they  came  up,  so  we  sat  down  behind 
the  said  fence.  He  sat  down  flat  with  his  feet  towards  me.  I 
was  on  my  knees  loading  my  gun  when  at  my  right  I  saw  a 
letter  torn  into  bits.  I  picked  it  up,  and  asked  him  to  read  it 
while  we  were  waiting,  but  he  replied  that  he  would  put  it  in 
his  pocket  and  read  it  when  he  had  more  time.  As  he  was  in 
the  act  of  putting  the  letter  in  his  pocket,  a  shot  from  the  bat 
tery  on  the  pike  took  off  his  head.  He  simply  fell  back,  straight 
ened  out,  and  that  was  all.  I  took  from  his  body  whatever  of 
value  there  was  and  later  gave  the  same  to  Major  Snyder.  The 
shot  which  killed  the  captain  was  next  to  the  last  that  the 
battery  fired,  for  our  men  swept  it  in  a  few  moments  later." 

S.  Augustus  Howe. — The  captain  is  one  of  the  few  men  who 
came  from  Massachusetts  and  served  in  New  York  regiments, 
and  then  went  back  to  stay  with  the  friends  of  his  boyhood.  He 
was  born  in  Gardner  July  2d,  1839,  and  attended  the  local 
schools. 

He  was  a  good  private  soldier  and  officer,  being  mustered  out 
as  a  2d  lieutenant  in  the  24th  New  York  Infantry,  and  then, 


424  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

when  his  service  there  was  over,  he  helped  raise  Company  L  of 
the  Ninth,  and  it  is  in  this  service  we  are  chiefly  interested. 
His  boys  always  speak  in  the  highest  terms  of  him. 

After  the  muster-out,  coming  back  to  the  Bay  State,  he  has 
had  numerous  indications  of  local  appreciation,  holding  many 
town  offices,  and  in  1891  and  1892  he  was  a  member  of  the  Leg 
islature.  For  several  years  he  has  been  a  special  county  com 
missioner.  He  is  a  member  of  the  firm  of  Howe  Bros.,  flour  and 
grain  dealers. 

The  following  lines  from  one  of  his  "boys"  indicate  pretty 
well  how  they  regarded  him : 

"You  would  always  know  'Howe,' 

You  could  always  tell 
His  sharp,  quick  voice  as  he  calls  to  L, 

'Fire  low  there,  men! 

Don't  give  it  away; 
Now  give  them  a  volley;  there,  that  was  well.'  " 

—Charles  A.  Ford,  Homer,  N.  Y. 

Ralph  Hunt. — Hunt  was  a  student  and  teacher  before  enlist 
ment,  and  he  returned  to  go  through  Genesee  College,  to  teach 
several  years  and  then  to  study  law.  His  home  is  in  South 
Evanston,  Ills. 

Edwin  L.  Huntington. — Company  L  had  many  Oswego  county 
men,  and  among  them  one  who  had  done  good  service  in  the 
24th,  and  late  in  1863  was  ready  to  go  in  again.  His  friendship 
for  S.  A.  Howe,  a  regimental  friend  who  had  cast  in  his  lot  in 
the  Company  L  venture,  may  have  been  a  motive.  At  any  rate 
Comrade  H.  made  one  of  the  very  best  soldiers  possible,  and 
as  1st  sergeant  was  transferred  to  the  2d  Heavy,  whence  he 
was  finally  mustered  out  a  2d  lieutenant. 

An  active  business  man  in  the  town  of  Mexico,  Oswego 
county,  he  has  been  an  efficient  supervisor  of  the  same. 

James  H.  Hyde. — The  second  captain  of  Company  A  has  en 
joyed  the  privilege  of  living  among  his  old  soldiers  ever  since 
the  war.  One  of  the  most  active  in  securing  enlistments  for  the 
company,  he  lives  to-day  to  enjoy  the  memories  of  duty  done 
at  a  critical  moment  in  the  nation's  life.  He  was  born  in  Huron, 
the  only  son  of  Harlow,  who  was  himself  the  son  of  Dr.  Zenas 
Hyde.  The  latter  was  one  of  the  very  first  settlers  in  the  old 
town  of  Wolcott,  having  moved  there  from  Massachusetts  in 
1807.  He  was  also  the  first  physician  in  these  parts. 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  425 

When  the  town  of  Wolcott  was  divided  in  1826,  the  residence 
of  the  doctor  fell  within  the  borders  of  the  new  town  of  Huron, 
and  here  the  remainder  of  his  life  was  spent,  though  his  prac 
tice  extended  over  all  of  northern  Wayne.  Harlow  Hyde,  son 
of  Dr.  Zenas  and  the  father  of  Captain  Jarnes,  during  a  long 
life  held  responsible  and  honorable  positions  in  both  Huron  and 
Wolcott,  dying  May  30,  1895,  in  his  ninety -third  year. 

James  H.  Hyde  was  born  in  Huron  about  seventy  years  since, 
and  there  he  had  the  beginning  of  his  education,  and  the  war 
found  him  a  tiller  of  the  soil.  Entering  heartily  into  the  forma 
tion  of  the  new  regiment,  he  was  rewarded  with  the  1st  lieuten 
ancy,  and  with  the  company  he  bravely  marched  away.  He 
was  ever  a  quick,  decided  officer,  and  one  who  wore  well  with 
his  men.  An  accident  in  childhood  deprived  him  of  the  sight 
of  an  eye,  but  no  soldier  in  Company  A  could  ever  see  that  this 
in  any  way  conflicted  with  the  faithful  performance  of  his 
duties,  and  at  the  Battle  of  Cold  Harbor  he  was  one  of  those 
who  found  a  gun  a  good  weapon  for  use.  He  was  one  of  the 
first  to  enter  the  enemies'  works  and  to  capture  several  of  the 
rebels. 

When  the  extension  of  the  regiment  to  heavy  artillery  sent 
Captain  J.  W.  Snyder  to  a  majority,  our  Lieutenant  Hyde  be 
came  captain,  and  thus  he  went  with  his  company  through  all 
its  service  up  to  and  including  Cedar  Creek,  where  he  was 
wounded  in  the  arm.  Late  in  1864  he  resigned  and  came  home 
to  resume  the  arts  of  peace.  Since  the  war  his  home  has  been 
in  W^olcott,  and  here  his  children  were  reared. 

For  several  years  he  was  an  attache  of  the  Legislature  in 
Albany;  latterly  he  has  been  the  court-crier  in  Lyons.  He  is 
a  devoted  member  of  the  G.  A.  R.,  and  is  always  found  at  the 
Wayne  county  reunions.  The  war  is  a  great  many  years  behind 
him,  but  he  has  the  consolation  of  thinking  that  when  the  strife 
was  waging  he  had  an  honorable  part  in  it. 

Vincent  A.  Kenyon. — The  last  adjutant  of  the  Ninth  is  a 
Cayuga  county  dweller,  and  makes  Dresserville  his  home,  being 
engaged  in  the  tannery  business.  His  father  was  a  Quaker, 
but  the  son  was  just  as  good  a  fighter  for  all  that,  possibly  a 
little  better. 

The  veteran  association  has  no  more  loyal  nor  enthusiastic 
member.  He  is  a  store-house  of  information  concerning  the  reg 
iment,  and  had  his  efforts  availed,  the  locked-up  treasures  in 


426  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Washington,  in  the  way  of  records,  had  been  opened  for  our 
use. 

James  D.  Knapp. — Now  living  in  Cato,  was  born  in  Wolcott, 
N.  Y.,  but  when  a  child  moved  with  his  parents  to  Huron,  and 
thence  to  Rose.  Had  the  advantages  of  the  common  schools, 
and  later  learned  the  blacksmith's  trade  and  worked  with  his 
father  till  August,  1862,  when  he  enlisted  in  Company  H. 

In  time,  attention  to  duty  secured  for  him  promotion  to  a 
sergeantcy,  and  then  he  became  1st  sergeant,  and  next  received 
a  2d  lieutenant's  commission  for  meritorious  conduct  at  Cold 
Harbor. 

After  the  war  he  settled  in  Cato,  and  as  his  health  would  not 
permit  the  resumption  of  his  trade,  he  has  been  a  farmer  during 
the  intervening  years.  A  Republican  in  politics,  he  has  been 
constable,  tax-collector  and  justice  of  the  peace  several  terms. 

Henry  P.  Knowles. — The  exceedingly  efficient  quartermaster 
of  the  Ninth  was  born  in  Butler  May  29,  1828.  In  1840  he  re 
moved  to  Lyons,  and  was  living  there  when  the  regiment  was 
raised.  He  had  been  town  clerk,  and  was  a  member  of  the  vil 
lage  board  when  he  enlisted. 

His  successful  discharge  of  duties  in  the  Ninth  resulted  in 
his  promotion  to  be  commissary  of  subsistence  of  volunteers. 
He  was  mustered  out  as  brevet  major  for  meritorious  services. 
His  later  services  were  on  the  staff  of  General  Seward. 

Oct.  1st,  1865,  he  took  up  his  abode  in  Palmyra.  For  two 
years,  1872-'73,  he  was  supervisor,  and  in  1892  was  president  of 
the  village. 

Since  1866  Major  Knowles  has  conducted  a  banking  business 
under  the  name  of  H.  P.  Knowles  &  Co. 

Sullivan  B.  Lamoreaux. — "Colonel"  Larnoreaux  having  gone 
to  the  West  soon  after  the  war  has,  in  person,  been  somewhat 
out  of  the  range  of  the  Ninth  veterans,  but  in  spirit  he  is  just 
as  enthusiastic  as  ever.  He  was  born  in  Rose,  N.  Y.,  Feb.  22d, 
1842,  son  of  Joel  and  Elizabeth  Lamoreaux.  The  name  surely 
suggests  French  origin.  During  the  boyhood  of  the  future 
major,  the  family  removed  to  Throopsville,  and  thence  he  en 
listed  in  Company  F.  His  military  record  appears  in  that  of  his 
company  and  with  the  field  and  staff. 

Very  flattering  things  are  said  of  Colonel  L.  by  the  men  who 
served  with  him,  and  they  are  the  best  calculated  to  judge  of 
an  officer's  merits  and  demerits.  This  is  what  a  Company  F 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  427 

man  writes:  "It  seems  to  me  that  I  can  see  him  as  I  write; 
just  as  he  looked  at  Cold  Harbor,  at  Cedar  Creek  and  at  Peters 
burg.  I  always  kept  my  eye  on  him  in  battle.  If  I  could  only 
see  Captain  Lamoreaux  I  was  happy."  Any  man  of  whom  a 
follower  would  write  the  foregoing  more  than  thirty  years  after 
the  scenes  named,  must  have  had  the  right  stuff  in  him. 

Colonel  Lamoreaux  has  lived  for  a  number  of  years  in  Cleve 
land,  O.,  and  latterly  his  business  card  appears  in  connection 
with  that  of  M.  A.  Hanna,  and  surely  every  survivor  hopes  that 
such  proximity  means  unlimited  prosperity  to  their  old-time 
comrade,  for  they  remember  that  the  American  Warwick  has 
the  reputation  of  having  made  William  McKinley  president. 

Charles  D.  Lent. — Beginning  his  service  in  Company  B  as 
sergeant,  he  came  home  as  1st  lieutenant,  in  command  of  H 
company.  He  was  born  in  Sodus,  1832,  of  New  Jersey  extrac 
tion,  and  for  the  most  part  has  resided  in  the  town  ever  since. 
He  has  been  farmer,  station-agent,  produce-dealer,  and  lastly 
the  landlord  of  a  temperance  hotel  in  Wallington.  He  has  been 
deputy  sheriff,  commander  of  Dwight  Post,  and  a  useful  mem 
ber,  generally,  of  the  community. 

Almanzo  W.  Litchard. — He  is  a  native  of  Sparta,  Livingston 
county,  Nov.  12,  1841,  though  his  boyhood  was  spent  in  Alle- 
gany  county.  Sept.  28,  1861,  he  enlisted  in  Company  D,  86th 
New  York  Infantry.  He  did  his  duty  under  McClellan  and 
Pope,  and  on  account  of  illness  was  discharged  Jan.  18,  1863. 

Again  he  enrolled  himself,  this  time  Sept.  1,  1864,  and  joined 
the  regiment,  Company  E,  at  Winchester,  on  the  23d  day  of  that 
month.  He  was  with  the  regiment  all  the  time  till  we  reached 
Danville,  when  he  was  taken  ill,  which  resulted  in  his  discharge 
June  20,  1865,  a  little  in  advance  of  that  of  the  most  of  his 
fellows. 

Comrade  Litchard  is  a  farmer  in  Rushford,  Allegany  county, 
and  in  1897  was  elected  to  the  Assembly,  and  the  compliment 
was  repeated  in  1898  by  the  largest  majority  ever  given  a  candi 
date  in  that  district. 

Alpheus  K.  Long. — This  veteran  was  one  of  those  who  grew 
tired  of  the  regiment's  long  stay  in  the  defenses,  and  though 
a  very  efficient  member  of  Company  F  and  a  corporal,  he  took 
the  examinations  for  a  commission  in  the  colored  service,  and 
was  successful,  receiving  his  commission  as  2d  lieutenant  Dec. 
13,  1863,  being  assigned  to  Company  H,  Tth  Infantry.  He  saw 


428  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

service  with  the  regiment  in  Florida,  South  Carolina  and  Vir 
ginia  till  Oct.  20,  1864,  when  he  was  detailed  to  serve  on  the 
staff  of  General  Ulysses  Doubleday  of  the  2d  Brigade,  3d  Divi 
sion,,  10th  Army  Corps.  He  came  out  of  the  service  as  brevet 
captain,  having  received  special  mention  for  meritorious  service 
with  his  regiment  in  the  field.  He  was  in  many  engagements, 
and  no  doubt  is  willing  to  testify  that  the  colored  troops  can 
and  will  fight. 

After  the  surrender  of  Lee,  he  went  with  his  regiment  to 
Texas,  about  the  time  that  Maximilian  was  making  himself 
obnoxious  there,  and  did  effective  duty  till  he  was  mustered 
out  Oct.  13, 1866.  He  was  twice  wounded  during  these  arduous 
years. 

For  some  years  resident  in  Manayunk,  Penn.,  he  has  latterly 
been  addressed  in  Pocomoke  City,  Md. 

Archibald  Lybolt. — After  the  regiment  released  him,  Lybolt 
resumed  his  studies,  and  after  a  course  in  Union  College  was 
graduated  from  one  of  New  York  city's  medical  schools,  and  is 
now  an  M.  D.  in  the  upper  part  of  the  island. 

Warham  Mudge. — Our  first  chaplain  was  born  May  12,  1822, 
in  Guilford,  Chenango  county,  N.  Y.,  and  received  his  theologi 
cal  instruction  in  Hamilton  Theological  Seminary,  now  Colgate 
University.  He  was  of  excellent  New  England  stock,  being 
the  seventh  generation  from  Jarvis  Mudge,  who  came  to  Boston 
in  1638. 

As  a  Baptist  preacher,  he  served  in  Kendall,  Tonawanda, 
Carlton  and  Palmyra,  coming  to  the  latter  place  in  1855,  and 
here  he  was  when  the  138th  was  raised,  and  thence  he  departed 
to  the  chaplaincy  of  the  regiment.  When  the  rigors  of  the  cam 
paign  had  so  far  impaired  his  health  as  to  lead  to  his  resigna 
tion,  he  returned  to  Palmyra,  and  there  remained  till  1866,  when 
he  went  to  Wilson,  Niagara  county.  Subsequently  he  held 
pastorates  in  Belfast,  Nunda,  Olean,  Deposit,  Georgetown, 
Boonville,  Parma  and  Eichburg,  where  he  died,  Dec.  31,  1891. 
His  body  was  buried  in  Olean. 

The  home  life  and  relations  of  those  whom  we  know  are 
usually  interesting,  and  it  is  in  place  to  state  that  the  future 
chaplain  was  married  June  12,  1849,  to  Miss  Sarah  Ross  of 
Medina,  N.  Y.,  and  that  to  them  were  born  three  sons,  Seldon 
J.,  Charles,  and  Linus  T.  The  first  named,  a  physician  located  in 
Olean,  had  attained  a  high  place  in  his  profession,  but  was  cut 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  429 

off  seemingly  too  early  by  death,  April  19,  1899.  He  was  a  man 
meriting  and  receiving  the  thorough  respect  of  the  entire  com 
munity.  The  second  son  is  a  bookkeeper  in  the  employ  of  the 
great  James  Pierce  Leather  Company,  with  salesrooms  in  Bos 
ton  and  tannery  in  Olean.  The  third  son  is  a  lawyer  and  resides 
in  North  Tonawanda,  N.  Y.  The  mother  survived  the  death  of 
her  husband  only  one  week,  dying  the  6th  of  the  following  Jan 
uary,  and  was  buried  by  his  side  in  Olean. 

From  the  chaplain  in  uniform,  a  familiar  figure  in  camp,  to 
the  village  clergyman,  attending  to  his  regular  round  of  duties, 
the  distance  seems  long,  yet  that  is  just  the  course  followed  by 
the  large  number  of  those  who  wore  the  shoulder-straps  of 
religious  advisers  during  the  war.  When  the  boys  were  well 
and  hearty,  few  of  them  were  particularly  anxious  for  his 
ministrations,  but  when  pain  and  anguish  wrung  the  brow, 
then  they  welcomed  him  as  a  bearer  of  glad  tidings.  And  now 
as  the  century  nears  its  end,  we  lay  a  wreath  of  verbal  immor 
telles  upon  the  grave  of  our  chaplain,  looking  forward  to  a 
happy  meeting  beyond  this  turbulent  world  in  a  land  that  hath 
not  wars  nor  even  rumors  thereof. 

Michael  McNulty. — Dwelling  in  Onondaga  Hill,  N.  Y.,  he  was 
born  in  Ireland  in  1837,  and,  when  ten  years  old,  came  to  this 
country,  locating  in  Lafayette,  Onondaga  county.  In  1856  went 
to  his  present  place  of  residence,  working  on  a  farm  summers 
and  attending  district  school  winters.  In  1857,  '58  and  '59  he 
took  an  academic  course  in  Fort  Plain  Seminary,  and  then  re 
turned  to  the  farm,  where  he  has  been  ever  since,  save  for  the 
interruption  of  the  war. 

Leaving  his  farm  and  its  interests  in  the  care  of  his  brother, 
he  went  into  the  service  in  1863,  coming  home  a  2d  lieutenant. 
The  lieutenant  is  another  of  those  who,  as  farmers,  labor  at  the 
very  foundation  of  prosperity. 

Hiram  L.  Munn. — A  Lyons  boy,  he  went  out  with  Company 
D  as  a  corporal,  was  promoted  sergeant,  and  was  one  of  those 
who  fell  into  rebel  hands  at  Monocacy. 

After  the  war,  he  followed  Horace  Greeley's  advice  and  went 
West.  He  is  in  the  lumber  business  with  his  son  in  Ames, 
Iowa. 

Eben  W.  Newberry. — For  a  great  many  years  Mr.  N.  has 
been  a  resident  of  Wolcott,  but  he  went  to  the  war  from  Huron, 
where  he  was  born,  and  where  he  received  the  beginning  of  his 


430  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

education,  going  thence  for  a  time  to  Falley  Seminary  in  Ful 
ton,  N.  Y. 

Returning  from  the  war,  having  been  a  prisoner  after  Monocacy 
for  a  time,  he  essayed  farming  in  his  native  town,  afterwards 
removing  to  Wolcott  and  starting  a  furniture  business. 

He  has  been  prominent  in  local  politics,  figuring  conspicuous 
ly  in  the  councils  of  the  Republican  party.  A  devoted  G.  A.  R. 
man,  he  has  held  high  positions  in  the  Keeslar  Post,  and  has 
been  president  of  the  Wayne  County  Veteran  Association. 

Crandall  J.  "North. — Only  a  lad  when  the  tide  of  war  swept 
him  into  Company  F,  he  came  out  of  the  strife  a  corporal,  with 
an  excellent  reputation  for  doing  his  duty  and  for  a  manly, 
upright  life. 

Feeling  it  his  duty  to  preach,  he  prepared  for  college,  and 
then  went  down  to  Middletown,  Conn.,  where  in  Wesleyan  Uni 
versity  he  pursued  a  four  years'  course,  graduating  in  1877. 

Since  that  date,  he  has  held  a  foremost  place  in  the  ranks  of 
the  New  York  East  Conference  of  the  Methodist  church.  At 
the  end  of  a  five  years'  stay  as  presiding  elder  of  the  New  Haven 
district,  he  is  now,  1899,  enjoying  a  well-earned  rest  in  a  foreign 
trip,  his  wife,  who  was  Miss  Mary  M.  Evans  of  Auburn,  accom 
panying  him. 

John  Oldswager. — A  survivor  of  Company  M  writes :  "He  was 
of  German  nativity,  and  by  trade  was  a  carpenter  and  joiner. 
He  won  his  promotion  by  good,  honest  service,  and  was  a  young 
man  when  the  death-shot  came.  His  head  was  shot  away,  all 
except  the  face,  which  was  spread  out  flat  on  the  ground.  He 
was  buried  a  short  distance  from  where  he  fell,  under  a  large 
locust  tree.  I  was  talking  with  him  the  night  before  Cedar 
Creek,  and  he  said  he  should  not  live  to  go  through  another 
battle.  He  was  a  good,  brave  soldier." 

Subsequently  when  the  National  Cemetery  was  laid  out  in 
Winchester,  his  body  was  removed  to  it,  and  now  lies  with 
those  of  so  many  of  the  Ninth  who  there 

"Under  the  sod  and  the  dew,  await  the  judgment  day." 

Francis  N.  Parish. — Among  the  enterprising  citizens  of 
Churchville,  town  of  Riga,  Monroe  county,  N.  Y.,  is  this  former 
member  of  Company  M,  and  one  of  the  most  devoted  adherents 
of  its  veteran  organization,  as  may  be  seen  by  reference  to  its 
records. 

He  moved  to  the  village  immediately  after  coming  home  from 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  431 

the  war,  and,  seemingly,  he  has  had  to  do  with  its  interests  ever 
since.  The  people  made  him  a  trustee  of  the  village  at  once, 
and  for  thirteen  years  kept  him  in  that  office,  during  eight  of 
which  he  was  president.  For  five  years  he  was  town  clerk,  and 
was  once  elected  justice  of  the  peace,  though  he  declined  to 
serve.  Since  1893  he  has  been  a  notary  public. 

He  is  the  proprietor  of  the  Cottage  Hotel,  and  if  a  picture 
counts  for  anything,  said  hotel  must  be  a  comfortable  place  in 
which  to  stay.  At  any  rate  it  will  pay  all  Ninth  veterans  to 
look  their  comrade  up  when  they  pass  his  way. 

William  I.  Parrish. — Every  man  who  recalls  the  days  of  his 
army  life  will  readily  picture  the  manly  form  of  Company  M's 
last  captain.  His  figure,  reproduced  in  bronze,  might  stand  as 
a  type  of  the  ideal  American  soldier.  He  was  born  in  Alexan 
der,  N.  Y.,  Feb.  IS,  1834.  He  had  excellent  early  advantages 
in  the  way  of  education,  and  had  been  a  member  of  Hamilton 
College. 

The  war  found  him  tilling  ancestral  acres,  and  when  the  call 
came  to  him,  he  went  in  as  a  sergeant  in  the  22d  Independent 
Battery,  later  to  become  M  Company  of  the  Ninth.  His  promo 
tion  through  the  lieutenancies  was  deserved  and  in  every  way 
he  made  an  excellent  officer. 

Coming  home  from  the  strife,  he  became  sheriff  of  Genesee 
county,  serving  in  this  capacity  from  1869  to  1872,  when  he 
went  to  Shiloh,  Iowa,  remaining  till  1886,  thence  removing  to 
Grundy  in  the  same  state,  which  was  his  home  till  a  short  time 
before  his  death. 

He  was  married,  in  1858,  to  Miss  Sarah  Squires  of  Alex 
ander.  Coming  back  to  the  old  Genesee  home  in  Alexander 
he  died  there  May  30, 1891.  When  we  who  survive  the  fray  lay 
our  tribute  of  flowers  on  our  comrade's  grave  each  recurring 
Memorial  day,  let  us  remember  the  man  who  served  with  us 
and  whose  patriotic  spirit  returned  to  God  who  gave  it  on  this 
the  day  sacred  to  the  memories  of  Rebellion  years. 

Enos  T.  Pimm. — The  most  of  the  men  in  Rose  who  served  in 
the  Ninth  were  in  Company  H,  and  Comrade  Pimm  has  long 
held  a  foremost  place  in  the  township.  As  the  landlord  of  the 
principal  hotel  of  the  village,  he  became  one  of  the  best-known 
men  in  eastern  Wayne. 

While  illness  has  latterly  compelled  his  withdrawal  from 
some  of  his  former  activities,  he  still  has  a  firm  hold  on  public 


432  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

affairs.    He  is  and  has  been  for  years  very  active  in  the  local 
Grand  Army  Post. 

Theodore  D.  Quick. — Now  a  citizen  of  Garland,  Penn.,  a  gen 
eral  grocer  and  provision  dealer,  was  born  in  Owasco,  N.  Y., 
in  1826;  with  his  father  went  to  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.,  1836;  in 
1839  came  back  to  New  York;  in  1843  went  to  Syracuse  and 
learned  the  cabinet-maker's  trade,  and  in  1855  removed  to  Nash 
ville,  Tenn.,  and  was  there  when  the  war  broke  out.  Before  the 
fall  of  Donelson,  he  was  twice  subjected  to  the  draft  ordeal,  the 
first  time  escaping;  he  was  a  member  of  the  Rock  City  Guards, 
and  on  the  second  trial  he  was  drawn,  but  the  confusion  inci 
dent  to  the  capture  of  Donelson  gave  the  enemy  little  time  to 
look  after  their  conscripts. 

In  1862  he  returned  to  Syracuse,  and  there  enlisted  in  Com 
pany  L,  attaining  the  rank  of  2d  lieutenant.  After  the  war,  he 
went  back  to  Tennessee  and  remained  till  1874.  Taking  up  his 
residence  in  Garland  in  1876  he  has  been  there  since. 

B.  Frank  Raze. — The  projected  history  of  the  regiment  has 
had  no  more  enthusiastic  supporter  than  this  veteran  of  Com 
pany  G,  who  enlisted  in  December,  1863,  one  of  the  youngest 
men  in  the  Ninth,  though  the  record  puts  him  at  the  minimum 
age.  While  his  home  is  in  Buffalo,  for  a  number  of  years  he 
has  been  connected  with  the  office  of  the  comptroller  of  the 
state  of  New  York  in  Albany. 

Samuel  C.  Redgrave. — For  several  years  Lieutenant  Red 
grave  has  been  the  leading  hardware  dealer  in  the  village  of 
Lyons.  He  was  born  in  Baltimore  April  17,  1836,  but  early 
came  here  with  his  mother  on  his  father's  death,,  that  she  might 
be  near  her  brother,  William  N.  Cole,  editor  of  a  Lyons  paper. 
Receiving  what  the  local  schools  had  to  give,  young  Redgrave 
worked  on  a  farm,  and  was  clerk  in  stores  till  the  year  1862. 
when  he  helped  raise  Company  D,  going  out  as  its  2d  lieutenant. 

After  his  return  from  his  army  service,  he  entered  the  employ 
of  Aaron  Remsen  in  the  hard  ware  trade,  and  in  1865  married  Miss 
Malvena  Remsen,  daughter  of  his  employer.  A  partnership 
was  formed  with  Mr.  Remsen  in  1866,  which  continued  till  the 
latter's  death  in  1866. 

Stephen  Reeves. — No  man  did  more  faithful  service  for  his 
whole  term  than  this  Marion  representative  in  Company  B. 
Never  boastful,  he  was  always  ready  when  there  was  something 
to  be  done. 


HON.    ALFRED   S.    ROE. 
COMPANY  A. 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  433 

The  war  found  him  a  farmer,  and  when  the  war  permitted 
him  to  return  to  peaceful  pursuits,  he  again  took  up  the  im 
plements  of  husbandry.  Among  those  of  his  company  killed  at 
Winchester  was  Alvin  Andrews,  one  of  his  nearest  friends. 
Later  he  took  as  wife  the  widow  of  this  comrade  slain. 

He  is  one  of  the  men  who  give  character  to  a  community. 

Henry  J.  Rhodes. — One  of  the  men  very  likely  to  be  seen  at 
every  reunion  of  the  Ninth  is  Captain  and  Brevet  Major  Khodes 
of  Auburn,  and  it  is  always  a  pleasure  to  receive  a  grasp  of  his 
hand  and  to  hear  his  cheerful  voice. 

It  is  a  long  time  since  he  won  his  laurels  on  Old  Virginia  soil, 
but  he  wears  them  well ;  they  will  never  fade. 

Lewis  B.  Rice. — If  Comrade  Rice  had  remained  in  Company 
B,  it  is  probable  that  he  would  have  had  enough  active  service, 
but  he  tired  of  fort-building  and  went  off  to  direct  colored  troops. 
He  was  an  ambulance  driver  when  the  change  came.  Begin 
ning  as  2d  lieu  tenant,  Company  K,  1st  U.  S.  C.  T.,  he  saw  service 
in  eastern  Virginia  and  North  Carolina;  was  promoted  to  1st 
lieutenant,  and  in  the  spring  of  1865  was  discharged. 

Staying  two  years  in  Sodus,  he  then  removed  to  Port  Huron, 
Mich.,  where  he  has  since  resided,  engaged  in  the  nursery  bus! 
ness.  No  survivor  of  the  Ninth  takes  any  more  pains  than  Com 
rade  Rice  to  attend  the  reunions.  He  was  a  good  soldier,  and 
is  just  as  good  a  citizen. 

Alfred  S.  Roe.— Born  in  Rose,  N.  Y.,  June  8,  1844,  he  is  the 
son  of  the  Rev.  Austin  M.  and  Polly  C.  (Seelye)  Roe;  the  father 
is  of  a  family  long  resident  on  Long  Island;  the  mother  is  of 
northeastern  New  York  and  Connecticut  extraction.  He  was 
prepared  for  college  at  Falley  Seminary,  Fulton,  N.  Y.,  but  did 
not  enter  college  till  after  the  war.  He  was  teaching  school  in 
Middleville,  Herkimer  county,  the  home  of  his  father,  a  Method 
ist  minister,  when  he  enlisted. 

When  the  war  was  over,  he  came  home,  and,  in  September, 
1866,  entered  Wesleyan  University  in  Middletown,  Conn.,  where 
he  was  graduated  in  1870.  From  1870  to  '75  he  was  principal 
of  the  Ashland,  Mass.,  High  School;  from  '75  to  '80  a  teacher 
in  the  Worcester  High  School,  and  the  following  ten  years  was 
principal. 

In  1890  he  made  a  short  trip  to  Europe,  and  in  1891  was 
elected  to  the  Massachusetts  Legislature,  serving  in  the  House 
the  following  four  years  and  the  Senate  the  subsequent  three. 

28 


434  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

He  has  written  many  pamphlets  and  books  on  historical  sub 
jects,  and  frequently  speaks  on  such  matters  before  lyceums, 
schools,  etc.  His  home  since  1875  has  been  in  Worcester,  Mass. 

Samuel  A.  Sabin. — The  first  surgeon  of  the  Ninth  was  born 
in  Ontario,  N.  Y.,  and  had  the  educational  opportunities  of  the 
town  and  of  Walworth  Academy,  until  he  entered  the  medical 
department  of  Michigan  University,  where  he  was  graduated  in 
1857.  Coming  back  to  York  state,  he  began  to  practice  in  Mac- 
edon,  soon  came  to  Palmyra,  and  thence  went  into  the  army, 
as  all  survivors  of  the  regiment  well  remember. 

Late  in  1864  he  suffered  from  a  very  severe  attack  of  typhoid 
fever,  which  left  him  in  a  sadly  weakened  condition,  so  much 
so  that  he  resigned  his  commission  and  resumed  his  profession 
in  Palmyra,  but  the  stalwart  form  never  regained  its  old-time 
vigor,  and  he  fell  an  easy  prey  to  pneumonia  April  3d,  1871, 
dying  in  the  village  of  his  adoption,  and  is  buried  there.  His 
widow  resides  in  Rochester. 

William  H.  Seward,  for  fifty  years  the  most  noteworthy  fig 
ure  in  central  New  York;  the  father  of  our  lieutenant  colonel 
on  leaving  for  Washington;  the  man  with  whom  our  own  regi 
mental  name  was  connected;  ever  devoted  to  our  interests, — 
no  one  will  doubt  the  propriety  of  entering  his  name  in  this  list 
of  Personals. 

From  1838,  when  he  was  first  elected  governor,  defeating  the 
famous  William  L.  Marcy,  for  more  than  thirty  years  no  face 
was  better  known  in  the  Empire  State  than  that  of  the  Sage  of 
Auburn,  the  author  of  the  Irrepressible  Conflict.  That  he  did 
not  become  president  of  these  United  States  was  one  of  the 
rulings  of  fate,  where  the  obviously  logical  candidate  was  set 
aside  through  the  rule  of  expediency. 

Born  in  Florida,  Orange  county,  May  16,  1801,  he  was  grad 
uated  from  Union  College,  Schenectady,  in  1820,  being  one  of 
the  boys  who  received  a  start  in  intellectual  living  under  the 
care  of  Dr.  Eliphalet  Nott.  Having  been  admitted  to  the  bar  in 
1822,  he  settled  in  Auburn  the  following  year  as  a  law  partner  of 
Elijah  Miller,  the  first  judge  of  Cayuga  county,  whose  daughter, 
Frances  Adaline,  he  married  in  1824.  He  entered  at  once  on  a 
career  in  public  life,  extending  to  1869.  He  was  prominent  in 
every  public  measure,  and  in  the  light  of  subsequent  events  it 
seems  that  he  was  nearly  if  not  quite  always  right.  His  ad 
dresses  during  these  vigorous  days  of  his  early  life  are  grand 
tributes  to  his  thought  and  eloquence. 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  435 

He  was  an  original  Whig,  and  was  the  first  governor  elected 
by  that  party.  While  thus  prominent  in  political  measures,  his 
advocacy  of  educational,  liberal  and  every  broad-minded  meas 
ure  marked  him  the  most  conspicuous  man  of  his  day  in  the 
Empire  State.  The  leading  features  of  his  life  are  too  well 
known  to  be  repeated  here,  but  his  defense  of  the  negro,  Free 
man,  for  the  murder  of  the  Van  Ness  family,  while  it  may  have 
alienated  some  of  his  immediate  supporters,  gave  him  a  repu 
tation  far  beyond  the  borders  of  his  native  state.  While  he  made 
many  addresses  and  delivered  many  eulogies,  perhaps  nothing 
from  his  lips  excelled  his  words  before  the  New  York  Legisla 
ture  in  1848  on  the  death  of  John  Quincy  Adams.  It  is  risking 
very  little  to  state  that  nothing  in  the  whole  range  of  eloquence 
is  grander  than  the  peroration  of  that  address,  wherein  he  con 
trasts  Napoleon  and  our  Old  Man  Eloquent.  When  Seward 
died,  Charles  Francis,  a  son  of  John  Quincy  Adams,  delivered 
the  address  in  behalf  of  New  York's  most  distinguished  son, 
before  the  Legislature;  but  though  magnificent,  it  did  not  reach 
the  pinnacle  on  which  Seward's  words  rested. 

Defeated  at  the  Chicago  Convention  of  1860,  on  the  success 
of  the  Republican  party  in  the  following  November,  he  became 
the  leader  in  Lincoln's  administration,  remaining  to  the  end  of 
Andrew  Johnson's  term  as  secretary  of  state.  After  ending  the 
affairs  of  office,  he  made  a  journey  around  the  world,  August, 
1870,  to  October,  1871,  a  most  entertaining  account  of  which 
was  afterwards  published. 

How  he  felt  the  assassin's  knife  in  the  April  tragedy  of  1865 
every  one  knows.  How  thoroughly  his  family  was  identified 
with  the  prosecution  of  the  war  may  not  be  so  generally  under 
stood.  His  eldest  son,  Augustus,  a  graduate  at  West  Point, 
served  in  the  Mexican  War,  and  during  the  Rebellion  was  a  pay 
master,  receiving  the  brevet  rank  of  colonel  when  the  war 
ended.  The  second  son,  Frederick,  was  assistant  secretary  with 
his  father,  and  was  one  of  the  victims  of  the  conspiracy  at  the 
close  of  the  struggle.  The  third  son,  William  H.,  Jr.,  needs  no 
introduction. 

Aside  from  the  priceless  services  connected  with  the  admin 
istration  during  the  war,  Secretary  Seward  left  a  legacy  whose 
value  grows  more  and  more  evident  as  the  years  advance,  viz., 
the  purchase  of  Alaska,  one  of  the  steps  whose  successors  shall 
lead  to  the  uniting  of  all  North  America.  Had  his  plan  for  the 


436  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

acquirement  of  the  Danish  West  Indies  and  Samana  Bay  also 
carried,  there  had  been  no  war  with  Spain  over  Cuban  affairs. 

He  died  at  his  old  home  Oct.  10th,  1872,  and  his  body  rests 
in  Auburn's  beautiful  cemetery  by  the  side  of  that  of  his  loved 
wife. 

In  recognition  of  the  great  services  rendered  to  the  nation  by 
this  great  statesman,  for  many  years  in  Madison  square,  New 
York,  a  heroic  statue  in  sitting  posture  has  claimed  and  re 
ceived  the  admiration  of  beholders.  A  generation  nearly  has 
swept  around  it  in  the  whirl  of  business,  and  generations  to 
come  will  pause  to  speak  of  the  man  who,  in  a  manner  second 
to  none,  laid  the  impress  of  his  hand  upon  the  affairs  of  this 
great  people.  But  to  those  of  central  New  York  there  is  a  figure 
which  they  like  better,  the  one  which  stands  hard  by  his  old 
home,  in  the  city  which  knew  him  best,  standing  near  the 
house  which  sheltered  him  and  his  loved  ones,  with  uplifted 
hand  seemingly  saying,  as  he  did  say  of  slavery,  "It  must  be 
abolished,  and  you  and  I  must  do  it."  It  is  this  figure  that  is 
taken  to  go  along  with  the  many  others  in  this  story  of  men 
whom  he  knew  and  fellowshiped,  that  our  children  may  know 
what  manner  of  man  he  was,  whom  traitors  deemed  worthy  to 
suffer  with  Lincoln. 

William  H.  Seward,  Jr.,  the  first  lieutenant  colonel  of  the 
Ninth,  was  born  in  Auburn  June  18,  1839.  While  his  older 
brothers  were  educated,  one  of  them  at  West  Point,  the  other 
in  Union,  our  officer  had  his  instruction  at  the  hands  of  private 
tutors,  under  the  care  and  direction  of  his  mother,  but  the 
process,  sometimes  considered  enervating,  in  his  case  does  not 
seem  to  have  had  that  effect,  for  we  surely  never  saw  the  time 
when  he  was  not  an  energetic  leader  of  his  men.  This  course 
in  his  education  may  have  been  necessitated  by  early  troubles 
with  his  eyes. 

His  career  as  an  officer  of  the  Ninth  it  is  quite  unnecessary 
to  rehearse  here,  but  of  his  life  after  leaving  us  much  may  be 
said.  Commissioned  brigadier  general  for  gallantry  at  Monoc- 
acy,  it  was  a  strange  decree  of  fate  that  he  should  be  stationed 
so  near  his  former  command,  though  not  in  the  same  depart 
ment,  being  in  command  of  the  1st  Brigade,  3d  Division,  De 
partment  of  West  Virginia.  While  he  took  some  of  his  friends 
from  the  regiment  with  him  to  Martinsburg,  it  is  a  fact  that 
so  often  did  duty  call  our  officers  and  men  to  that  place,  he  must 


« I 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  437 

have  been  able  to  see  a  soldier  from  the  Ninth  any  day  he  chose. 
His  military  family  included  our  former  quartermaster,  H.  P. 
Knowles,  and  Lieutenant  George  K.  Watson,  his  brother-in-law. 
Though  there  did  not  come  to  General  Seward  the  same  kind 
of  service  that  he  had  done  so  well  when  with  his  old  regiment, 
he  was  by  no  means  consigned  to  a  bed  of  roses.  Martinsburg 
became  a  great  depot  of  supplies,  and  guerrillas  held  him  in  full 
survey.  It  speaks  volumes  for  his  affectionate  remembrance 
of  his  old  boys  that  he  asked,  through  the  secretary  of  war  and 
the  adjutant  general,  that  the  Ninth  might  be  assigned  as  a 
part  of  his  command.  This  was  on  the  3d  of  October,  and  the 
request  was  referred  to  General  Sheridan,  but  the  latter  at 
Winchester  had  observed  some  of  the  fighting  qualities  of  those 
same  lads,  and  this  is  his  reply: 

Woodstock,  October  7,  12  M. 
General  E.  D.  Townsend, 

Assistant  Adjutant  General. 

Your  dispatch  informing  me  of  the  assignment  of  Brigadier 
General  Seward  received.  I  think  that  the  Ninth  New  York 
Artillery  had  better  be  kept  with  the  fighting  force. 

P.  H.  SHEEIDAN, 
Major  General  Commanding. 

Hence  it  was  that  the  Ninth  stayed  with  the  "fighting  force" 
and  had  the  glory  of  Cedar  Creek  and  Appomattox,  but  General 
Reward's  good  intentions  demand  our  gratitude. 

As  we  know,  he  resigned  his  commission  early  in  June,  since 
the  war  was  over,,  and  there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  in  the 
line  of  peace.  He  returned  to  the  calling  he  had  entered  upon 
before  the  war,  and  began  over  again  the  useful  life  he  has 
continued  to  lead  through  the  intervening  years.  Blessed  with 
an  abundance  of  this  world's  goods,  he  has  taken  pleasure  in 
making  others  happy  through  its  judicious  employment.  Dur 
ing  the  winter  months,  a  stranger  could  not  be  long  in  the  city 
of  Auburn  without  being  asked  by  some  one,  not  the  general 
by  any  means,  to  visit  the  Free  Reading  Booms  opened  and 
maintained  by  him,  not  for  any  particular  class  nor  under  vexa 
tious  restrictions,  but  for  any  and  all  who  choose  to  use,  always 
provided  that  they  behave  themselves  when  in  the  rooms.  It 
is  hardly  likely  that  such  a  system  can  be  duplicated  in  the 
land.  The  rooms  are  large,  comfortably  furnished,  warmed,  and 
well  equipped  with  reading  matter  adapted  to  the  needs  of  the 
average  reader. 


438  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

In  addition  to  the  banking-house  so  long  conducted  by  the 
general,  he  is  a  director  of  the  American  Express  Company,  and 
was  one  of  the  chief  promoters  of  the  Southern  Central  Rail 
road,  now  a  part  of  the  Lehigh  System.  He  is  interested  in  local 
history,  being  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Cayuga  County  Histor 
ical  Society,  and  is  also  its  president.  He  is  president  of  the 
City  Club,  Auburn ;  vice-president  of  the  Auburn  City  Hospital 
and  of  the  Cayuga  County  Savings  Bank.  He  is  a  trustee  of 
Wells  College  at  Aurora,  and  of  course  wears  the  bronze  button 
of  the  G.  A.  R.  with  the  rosette  of  the  Legion  of  Honor.  Through 
his  descent  from  Colonel  John  Seward,  his  great  grandfather, 
he  is  a  member  of  the  Sons  of  the  Revolution,  and  in  New  York 
city  he  maintains  membership  in  the  Union  League  and  Trans 
portation  Clubs. 

While  always  an  active  member  of  the  Republican  party,  he 
has  held  no  political  office,  wherein  it  is  safe  to  say  that  the 
public  has  been  the  loser.  In  1884  his  friends  pressed  his 
candidacy  before  the  convention,  but  unsuccessfully,  for  the 
gubernatorial  nomination.  Let  us  think  that  if  he  had  been  nomi 
nated  he  might  have  succeeded  Grover  Cleveland.  In  1888  he 
was  an  elector  at  large,  and  presided  over  the  college  which 
cast  its  vote  for  Benjamin  Harrison. 

It  is  an  interesting  item  for  those  who  think  that  the  sons 
of  well-to-do  and  noted  men  seldom  have  the  spirit  of  self-help 
themselves  that,  when  eighteen  years  old,  or  in  1857,  when  his 
honored  father  was  in  the  very  zenith  of  his  power,  this  the 
youngest  son  chose  to  go  to  Albany  and  there  to  serve  for  two 
years  in  a  hardware  store,  thus  acquiring  a  business  training 
to  be  had  in  no  other  way.  Then  as  private  secretary  to  his 
father,  at  that  time  United  States  senator,  he  had  an  invaluable 
opportunity  to  form  the  acquaintance  of  prominent  men  in 
Washington.  Altogether  he  had  a  good  preparation  for  the 
work  he  did  during  the  war,  especially  for  the  mission  to  Lou 
isiana,  in  the  early  winter  of  1863,  alluded  to  in  the  paper  pre 
pared  by  Mrs.  Seward. 

The  home  life  of  a  man  is  an  excellent  index  to  his  character, 
and  General  Seward's  marriage  in  June,  I860,  to  Miss  Janet  M. 
Watson  of  Auburn  has  been  an  extremely  happy  one.  With 
the  first  child,  Cornelia,  or  "Nellie,"  born  the  day  before  the 
regiment  left  the  city,  the  "boys"  feel  quite  well  acquainted, 
for  they  dated  their  letters  from  her  camp,  for  some  weeks.  As 


REV.    CHARLES   L.    SHERGUR, 
COMPANY  F. 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  439 

Mrs.  Frederick  I.  Allen  they  might  have  some  difficulty  in  rec 
ognizing  her.  Then,  too,  she  must  have  changed  some  in  the 
intervening  generation  and  more.  There  is  another  William  H. 
Seward,  Jr.,  now,  a  lawyer  and  banker  in  Auburn.  There  is  also 
a  younger  daughter,  Miss  Frances  Janet. 

Eetaining  the  old  Seward  homestead,  where  his  father  so  long 
dispensed  free-hearted  hospitality,  General  Seward  maintains 
the  traditions  of  the  family  and  the  house,  for  the  same  goes 
back  of  the  governor  and  secretary,  since  it  is  a  mansion  built 
by  the  distinguished  lawyer  and  judge,  Elijah  Miller. 

To  the  survivors  of  the  regiment,  the  presence  of  the  general 
at  their  gatherings  is  always  a  pleasure.  His  words,  though  not 
many,  are  carefully  weighed  and  are  ever  listened  to  with  ap 
proval.  It  is  said  that  in  manner  of  speech  he  much  resembles 
his  noted  father.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  men  of  the  Ninth  re 
member  him  for  what  he  is  and  what  he  was.  That  at  this 
time,  thirty-four  and  more  years  since  the  end  of  the  war,  our 
colonel  is  still  meeting  with  us,  and  likely  to  do  so  for  years 
to  come,  is  a  blessing  for  which  all  are  grateful.  Every  veteran 
grasps  his  hand  with  cordial  greetings. 

Charles  L.  Shergur. — The  veteran  who  for  a  number  of  years 
has  been  chaplain  of  the  Ninth's  association  of  survivors  is  a 
Methodist  preacher  in  the  Wyoming  Conference,  and  though  the 
rules  of  his  denomination  require  him  to  live  now  here,  now 
there,  his  place  of  residence  never  disturbs  for  a  moment  the 
thoroughness  of  his  devotion  to  his  old  army  friends. 

When  he  was  living  down  below  the  Pennsylvania  line,  he 
came  to  the  reunions  just  the  same,  and  we  may  expect,  as  long 
as  the  association  continues  and  Comrade  Shergur  can  raise 
a  dollar,  just  so  long  he  will  be  on  hand  each  recurring  year. 

Few  if  any  men,  among  the  survivors,  have  brighter  recollec 
tions  of  the  days  rapidly  becoming  obscured  in  the  lapse  of  time. 
He  came  into  Company  F  from  Lansing,  one  of  the  small  num 
ber  that  Tompkins  county  contributed  to  the  regiment.  Enter 
ing  the  company  as  private,  he  rose  steadily  till  he  was  mus 
tered  out  as  1st  sergeant;  he  also  enjoys  the  honor  of  a  brevet 
2d  lieutenancy  for  conspicuous  bravery  on  the  field. 

His  home  now  is  Caton,  Steuben  county. 

Frank  A.  Sinclair. — Veterans  of  the  Ninth  who  go  near  Mott- 
ville,  Onondaga  county,  should  look  in  on  Captain  Sinclair,  who 
has  long  conducted  there  a  prosperous  chair-making  business. 


440  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

He  was  born  in  1834,  a  son  of  James  Sinclair,  who,  a  native  of 
Paisley,  Scotland,  1804,  came  to  this  country  and  died  in  Skan- 
eateles,  1892. 

Mr.  Sinclair  began  his  business  in  1859,  and  left  it  during 
the  war  interval  of  1862-'65,  for  he  went  out  as  a  private  in 
Company  I  and  came  home  the  captain  of  L.  On  his  return,  he 
resumed  his  business,  and  by  dint  of  honest  work  and  faithful 
attention  he  has  built  up  a  reputation  second  to  none.  For  su 
perior  workmanship  and  quality  of  goods  he  possesses  numerous 
medals,  diplomas,  etc.,  awarded  at  many  exhibitions. 

In  politics  he  is  an  out-and-out  Prohibitionist.  He  is  one  of 
four  brothers  who  went  into  the  service  and  all  came  out  again. 

James  W.  Snyder. — In  all  the  labor  of  preparing  this  volume, 
nothing  has  occasioned  greater  regret  than  the  utter  failure  to 
secure  direct  information  from  the  last  commander  of  the  regi 
ment.  There  is  no  survivor  of  the  Ninth  who  has  not  in  his 
heart  the  most  kindly  sentiments  for  the  gallant  officer  who 
always  led  to  win  success.  It  mattered  not  whether  it  was  his 
first  or  last  fight;  he  went  in  like  one  born  to  rule.  But  his 
"boys"  have  seen  very  little  of  him  since  war's  din  was  over, 
and  for  this  their  regret  is  all  the  greater. 

He  was  born  in  the  town  of  Wolcott,  N.  Y.,  in  the  Red  Creek 
portion  thereof,  and  there  resided  till  the  war  sent  him  to  Wash 
ington.  His  career  in  the  army  the  preceding  pages  have  al 
ready  told.  Coming  home  in  1865,  he  remained  in  his  native 
county  for  a  time  and  then  went,  possibly,  to  Buffalo,  where 
he  engaged  in  the  flour  and  grain  business,  and  for  a  time  was 
a  member  of  the  Board  of  Aldermen,  serving  in  this  capacity 
when  Grover  Cleveland  was  mayor  of  the  city. 

He  was  next  heard  of  in  Oklahoma,  where  he  was  treasurer 
of  the  city  of  Guthrie.  An  attack  of  the  "grippe"  two  years 
since  made  sad  inroads  upon  his  strength,  leaving  a  legacy  of 
rheumatism,  and  as  the  colonel  is  now  turning  seventy  years 
of  age,  he  does  not  recuperate  as  he  did  in  his  younger  days. 

Irvin  Squyer. — Many  years  have  passed  since  the  first  cap 
tain  of  Company  K  went  to  his  eternal  home,  but  many  of  us 
love  to  think  of  his  heroic  endurance  and  the  grand  record  that 
he  made.  His  educational  advantages  were  those  of  the  district 
school,  and  at  an  early  age  he  began  learning  the  millwright's 
trade  with  his  father,  with  whom  he  labored  many  years.  One 
of  the  jobs  that  they  did  in  workmanlike  manner  was  the  put- 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  441 

ting  in  of  a  wheel  for  the  Auburn  Woolen  Mills,  when  it  was 
supposed  that  the  mills  would  have  to  be  shut  down,  but  they 
did  not,  for  the  night  enabled  the  workmen  to  make  all  the  nec 
essary  changes,  and  the  day  work  went  on  as  usual. 

He  was  working  in  a  mill  when  the  war  epidemic  overspread 
the  land  and  infected  him  and  his  neighbors.  We  are  told  that 
the  Ira  infection  came  from  a  fervid  address  made  in  Hannibal 
by  Colonel  D.  C.  Littlejohn,  and  we  well  know  how  eloquent 
he  could  be  on  occasion.  "It  seemed  as  though  every  one  was 
beside  himself  that  night,  each  saying  to  the  other,  Til  go  if 
you  will.'  About  12  o'clock  Sunday  night  there  was  a  rap  at 
the  door,  and,  when  opened,  there  stood  four  of  our  best  young 
men,  and  one  of  them  said,  'Irvin,  if  you  will  go  as  our  captain 
we  will  go  to  the  war.'  The  horses  were  gotten  out,  and  away 
they  went  to  the  eastern  part  of  the  town.  Tuesday  thirty  men 
started  for  Auburn,  returning  Saturday.  Sunday  night  the  peo 
ple  of  the  town  presented  the  captain  with  a  sword  and  belt, 
and  Monday  all  went  back  to  Auburn,  where  in  September  they 
were  sworn  into  the  service  of  the  United  States." 

Mrs.  Squyer  was  with  her  husband  for  some  time  in  the  de 
fenses,  having  very  pleasant  experiences  in  Forts  Gaines,  Mans 
field  and  others,,  but  when  the  grand  marching  orders  came  she 
had  to  return  to  the  North.  It  was  at  Cold  Harbor  that  the 
captain  received  the  wound  which  laid  him  off  so  long.  Colonel 
Seward  had  sent  his  orderly  for  a  report,  which  the  captain 
made  upon  a  piece  of  paper,  not  leaving  the  works;  but  the 
man  speedily  returned  saying  the  colonel  wanted  a  report  in 
person.  Captain  Squyer  rose  and  started,  but  had  gone  only  a 
few  steps  when  he  was  hit  by  a  sharpshooter,  the  ball  badly 
wounding  the  right  shoulder.  He  was  carried  back  on  a 
stretcher  and  when  he  reached  the  commander,  he  said,  "Col 
onel,  I  am  here  for  orders." 

While  his  friends  advised  him  to  go  to  the  hospital,  he  de 
termined  to  go  home,  and  did  so,  reaching  that  blest  spot  wholly 
unannounced.  Let  Mrs.  S.  tell  how  he  was  received:  "I  knew 
nothing  about  his  coming  nor  his  wound  till  he  stepped  on  the 
veranda,  looking  like  a  ghost.  He  had  on  his  fatigue  coat,  with 
one  sleeve  empty.  I  could  not  get  out  of  my  chair,  and  when 
I  could  speak  it  was  to  say  only,  'Oh,  Irv,  where  is  your  arm?' 
Se  threw  back  his  coat  and  said,  'Here  it  is,'  having  it  in  a 
sling.  He  was  put  to  bed  and  kept  there  for  quite  a  while,  and 


442  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

I  dressed  his  wound  three  times  a  day,  from  then  till  September, 
when  two  large  pieces  of  his  flannel  shirt  were  taken  out  with 
three  pieces  of  bones." 

He  started  back  to  the  regiment  in  October,  and  on  his  arrival 
found  a  major's  commission  awaiting  him,  but  he  was  not  mus 
tered  for  several  weeks.  He  was  home  on  leave  of  absence  when 
Lincoln  was  assassinated,  and,  thinking  the  war  practically 
over,  he  resigned  his  commission  May  17,  1865.  Till  his  death, 
April  16,  1879,  he  continued  to  reside  in  Ira.  His  widow,  Mrs. 
Ellen  Squyer,  resided  for  several  years  in  her  old  home,  but 
latterly  has  made  her  home  with  her  daughter  in  Athens, 
Greene  county,  N.  Y.  The  veterans  of  the  Ninth  remember 
with  pleasure  the  interest  that  Mrs.  S.  takes  in  the  annual 
gatherings  of  the  men  who  were  so  long  associated  with  her 
husband.  She  holds  the  veteran  soldier  in  the  highest  esteem. 

Alfred  E.  Stacey. — He  is  a  native  of  Elbridge,  where  he 
now  resides.  He  was  born  Jan.  20,  1846,  and  through  all  his 
life  has  been  a  citizen  of  this  town.  Not  only  has  he  been  a 
citizen  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word,  he  has  been  active, 
energetic,  straightforward,  and  always  identified  with  the 
town's  best  interests. 

He  was  one  of  a  family  of  seven  children,  all  of  whom  were 
reared  in  Elbridge,  and  all  remained  in  the  county  except 
James,  who  went  in  1867  to  Missouri.  As  a  school-boy  Alfred 
E.  was  educated  in  Munro  Collegiate  Institute,  under  the 
instruction  of  Prof.  T.  K.  Wright,  one  of  the  foremost  educators 
of  the  country. 

Upon  quitting  school  at  sixteen  years  of  age,  he  accepted  a 
clerkship  with  A.  Wood  &  Sons,  general  merchants  in  Elbridge. 
After  a  service  of  two  years  in  that  capacity,  he  resigned,  and 
enlisted  as  a  private  in  the  9th  Heavy  Artillery,  serving  till  the 
close  of  the  war.  He  was  the  youngest  member  of  his  company, 
and  in  point  of  size  probably  the  smallest,  as  he  then  weighed 
only  106  pounds.  Three  of  his  brothers  were  also  his  comrades 
in  the  Civil  War:  Anthony  in  the  19th  N.  Y.  Infantry,  after 
wards  changed  to  the  3d  Light  Artillery,  after  serving  his  term 
of  enlistment  and  being  honorably  discharged,  re-enlisted  in 
Battery  L,  9th  Heavy  Artillery,  with  George,  a  member  of  the 
same  company;  and  James,  in  the  15th  N.  Y.  Engineers. 

Alfred,  Anthony  and  George  were  with  Sheridan  at  Cedar 
Creek,  and  afterwards  with  General  Grant  at  Petersburg  and 


HON.   ALFRED   E.    STAGEY, 
COMPANY  L. 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  443 

Apponiattox.  As  a  result  of  this  service  at  Cedar  Creek,  Mr. 
Stacey  received  two  gunshot  wounds. 

After  his  discharge  from  the  army  in  1865,  he  returned  to  El- 
bridge,  and  again  entered  the  Munro  Collegiate  Institute.  While 
Alfred  E.  Stacey  has  been  active  and  successful  in  building  up 
and  conducting  his  business  affairs,  he  has  also  given  much 
valuable  time  and  service  in  the  interest  of  public  affairs.  Every 
plan  that  has  been  on  foot  for  the  betterment  of  the  town  and 
county  has  found  him  in  hearty  sympathy  with  its  advance 
ment.  As  a  result  of  his  energy  and  regard  for  the  best  interests 
of  Elbridge,  Mr.  Stacey  has  built  up  the  industries  of  the  vil 
lage  not  only  by  increasing  those  of  his  own,  but  by  inducing 
other  manufacturers  to  locate  at  that  place. 

In  politics  Mr.  Stacey  has  always  been  an  earnest,  active  Re 
publican,  always  zealous  in  its  interests,  and  ever  faithful  to 
the  trusts  that  the  party  has  imposed  upon  him.  He  has  been 
honored  at  home  by  having  been  chosen  as  president  of  the 
village  as  well  as  its  clerk  for  several  terms.  He  has  also  been 
its  postmaster,  and  was  instrumental  during  his  term  in 
introducing  the  money-order  system,  and  increasing  its  mail 
service,  thereby  more  than  doubling  the  receipts  of  the  office. 
Few  state  or  county  conventions  have  been  held  in  recent  years 
in  which  he  did  not  represent  his  town  as  delegate. 

In  1886  he  was  elected  to  represent  the  2d  Onondaga  District 
in  the  Assembly,  and  was  re-elected  in  1887  by  a  majority  of 
nearly  600  over  Hon.  W.  B.  Kirk,  after  one  of  the  hardest  con 
tests  on  the  part  of  his  opponent  that  was  ever  waged  in  the 
district.  During  his  service  as  member  he  was  successful  in 
securing  the  passage  of  the  law  which  removed  the  necessity 
of  indigent  soldiers  or  sailors  of  the  Civil  War  applying  to  the 
poormaster  for  aid,  or  being  confined  in  the  poorhouses  of  the 
state.  This  equitable  and  just  law  is  still  in  force  in  New  York 
state.  Mr.  Stacey  was  in  the  Assembly  at  the  time  Frank  His- 
cock  was  elected  United  States  senator,  and,  like  Grant's  famous 
"306,"  he  was  one  of  the  eleven  who  stood  firm  and  unwavering 
till  it  resulted  in  his  candidate's  election.  He  served  upon  the 
Committee  on  Railroads,  and  was  also  chairman  of  the  Com 
mittee  on  Charitable  and  Religious  Societies. 

The  Anthony  Stacey  Post,  G.  A.  R.,  named  in  honor  of  his 
brother,  was  organized  through  Mr.  Stacey's  efforts,  and  it  was 
through  his  influence  it  was  located  in  Elbridge.  Mr.  Stacey 


444  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

has  taken  a  deep  interest  in  this  organization.  He  is  also  a 
prominent  member  of  the  Odd  Fellows,  in  which  lodge  he  has 
occupied  all  the  chairs;  has  been  its  noble  grand,  and  elected 
to  represent  the  lodge  in  the  state  conventions. 

Nelson  F.  Strickland. — Company  B's  1st  lieutenant,  at  the 
muster-in,  was  a  native  of  Walworth,  a  son  of  one  of  the  very 
first  settlers,  born  Nov.  14,  1815.  In  1840  he  moved  to  Adrian, 
Michv  where  for  six  years  he  was  foreman  in  an  iron-foundry. 
Next  he  was  on  a  farm  in  Adrian  for  three  years;  coming  back 
to  Wayne  county  in  1853,  he  built  a  saw-mill  in  Lincoln,  town 
of  Walworth,  which  he  ran  till  1857,  when  he  returned  to  the 
home  farm,  and  was  on  that  till  1862. 

In  1865  he  was  instrumental  in  getting  a  post  office  at  Lin 
coln,  and  was  made  the  first  postmaster.  He  held  this  office 
till  1872,  when  he  again  went  back  to  the  old  farm  where  he 
was  born  and  where  he  died  April  29,  1885. 

In  1840,  October  21,  he  was  married  to  Miss  Lodema  Sherman 
of  East  Palmyra,  N.  Y.  He  was  a  member  of  the  Baptist 
Church,  and  in  1879  was  superintendent  of  the  Lincoln  Free 
Baptist  Sunday-school. 

Philip  Sturge. — Lieutenant  Sturge,  long  resident  in  Weeds- 
port.  N.  Y.,  writes  that,  by  the  order  of  Major  Snyder,  com 
manding,  he  was  made  adjutant  Oct.  14,  1864;  but  served  as 
such  only  a  few  days,  since  he  was  severely  wounded  on  the 
19th  day  of  October  at  Cedar  Creek.  He  thus  alludes  to  the 
seemingly  fatal  wound  received  as  above:  "The  ball  entered  in 
front  of  the  left  ear,  passed  under  and  out  between  the  large 
cords  in  the  back  of  the  neck.  The  later-day  explanation  of  this 
is  that  a  Johnnie  Eeb  gave  it  to  me  in  the  neck.'7 

George  W.  Swift. — Now  a  clergyman,  he  is  able  to  say  that 
during  his  enlistment  he  was  never  sick  a  day  nor  absent  from 
service  once.  Enlisting  as  private,  he  held  non-commissioned 
rank,  and  then  was  commissioned  2d  and  1st  lieutenant,  for 
some  time  commanding  his  company. 

After  the  war,  he  continued  his  militant  services,  though  not 
with  carnal  weapons,  since  he  is  and  has  been  for  several  years 
pastor  of  the  Baptist  Church  in  Stockton,  Cal. 

Though  very  far  removed  from  his  former  haunts,  he  retains 
all  his  old-time  interest  in  the  Ninth. 

Edward  P.  Taft. — The  first  major  of  the  regiment  was  born 
in  Lyons  Sept.  10,  1832,  the  son  of  Newell  and  Jane  (Sterrett) 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  445 

Taft.  The  father  was  an  early  settler  of  Lyons,  coming  thither 
from  Goshen,  Mass.,  in  1816,  and  soon  established  an  iron- 
foundry,  the  first  in  the  county  and  one  of  the  most  successful 
in  the  state.  Possessed  of  great  bodily  vigor,  he  was  a  business 
man  for  more  than  forty  years,  dying  in  1874,  having  survived 
his  son.  That  he  was  of  good  New  England  lineage  is  evident 
in  the  name  that  he  gave  this  son,  for  Edward  Payson,  the 
Portland  (Maine)  divine  has  had  as  many  boys  among  Congre- 
gationalists  and  Presbyterians  named  after  him  as  John  Wesley 
ever  had  among  the  Methodists. 

Possibly  the  father  intended  that  his  preacher-named  son 
should  himself  be  a  minister,  since  he  sent  him  to  the  Mills 
School  in  South  Williamstown  and  at  Easthampton,  Mass.,  to 
be  prepared  for  college.  He  entered  Williams  College  in  1851, 
having  as  classmates  many  men  subsequently  to  achieve  dis 
tinction,  among  them  John  J.  Ingalls,  to  be,  at  a  later  date, 
U.  S.  senator  from  Kansas,  and  James  A.  Garfield  was  in  the 
class  immediately  following.  Ill  health,  however,  compelled 
him  to  leave  college  in  1853,  but  Williams,  in  recognition  of  his 
services  for  the  nation,  later  conferred  upon  him,  in  course,  the 
degree  that  he  would  have  had  could  he  have  stayed  to  the  end. 

He  entered  business  with  his  father  and  so  continued  till 
September,  1862,  when  he  threw  himself  into  the  plan  of  rais 
ing  a  new  regiment  in  the  district.  His  zeal  and  success  in  this 
enterprise  secured  for  him  the  position  of  major,  and  as  such 
he  went  with  the  regiment  to  the  Capital.  In  the  sequence  of 
events,  he  succeeded  Lieutenant  Colonel  Seward  in  his  rank, 
and  later  was  promoted  to  the  colonelcy  of  the  Ninth,  though 
he  did  no  more  active  service  with  the  regiment.  In  all  that 
makes  the  soldier,  Colonel  Taft  excelled,  and  no  one  was  earlier 
than  he  upon  the  breastworks  at  Cold  Harbor,  cheering  his  men 
to  their  deadly  work.  He  was  with  us  through  the  tedious 
marching  to  Petersburg  and  on  the  excursion  to  Monocacy, 
where,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  9th  of  July,  he  rode  his  horse 
into  the  thickest  of  the  fray,  and  in  the  performance  of  duty 
was  wounded,  so  that  he  not  only  lost  his  leg,  but  his  health 
was  permanently  shattered. 

At  first  borne  to  the  hospital  in  Frederick,  he  suffered  ampu 
tation  of  the  wounded  leg,  but  illness  resulting  from  the  same 
he  was  never  able  to  return  to  the  regiment;  instead  he  served 
in  New  York  as  a  member  of  several  courts-martial.  Follow- 


446  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

ing  his  discharge  from  the  service  in  1865  he  was  appointed  U. 
S.  consul  at  San  Juan  del  Sur,  the  Pacific  seaport  of  the  city  of 
Nicaragua,  but  fever  incident  to  the  climate  soon  seized  his 
already  weakened  body,  and  he  was  obliged  to  return,  and  in 
his  old  home,,  Lyons,  he  died  Jan.  30,  1867,  still  a  young  man. 
His  body  rests  in  the  beautiful  cemetery  of  that  village. 

Colonel  Taft  was  married  Oct.  8,  1856,  to  Miss  Josephine  L. 
Avery  of  Waterville,  N.  Y.,  who  with  a  son  and  two  daughters 
survived  him.  Mrs.  Taft  afterwards  became  Mrs.  Medbury  of 
Ballston  Spa,  N.  Y.,  where  she  now  resides. 

Our  colonel  did  not  survive  the  war  long  enough  to  have  time 
work  in  his  face  and  figure  the  changes  so  noticeable  among  his 
associates  and  followers  who  are  alive  to-day.  He  went  to  his 
grave  with  all  the  indication  of  young  manhood  that  we  must 
ever  associate  with  the  major  and  lieutenant  colonel  whom  we 
saw  on  parade,  with  whom  we  marched,  and  whose  place  in  the 
battle-line  we  vividly  recall.  With  unblanched  hair,  his  body 
has  been  sleeping  in  Lyons  burial-ground,  though  the  leg  shat 
tered  in  battle,  years  before  with  other  and  kindred  clay,  was 
resolved  into  its  elements,  near  the  field  where  the  wound  was 
received,  which  won  for  him  in  the  college  records  the  words, 
"Pro  patria  mortuus  est,"  or,  "He  died  for  country." 

Frank  Tallman. — In  the  slip  of  a  boy  who  came  down  to  the 
defenses  in  the  spring  of  1864,  no  one  would  have  thought  there 
was  the  future  tireless  statistician  and  painstaking  secretary 
of  the  regiment  in  the  coming  years,  but  such  was  the  case. 

He  was  born  in  Scipio  a  couple  of  years  later  than  his  enlist 
ment-paper  would  indicate,  and  though  he  was  not  large,  when 
the  rebels  gobbled  him  at  Monocacy,  he  was  smaller  still  when 
he  saw  York  state  again  after  a  winter's  stay  with  the  Johnnies. 
Looking  on  his  solid  figure  to-day  it  requires  a  stretch  of  imag 
ination  as  well  as  confidence  in  Frank's  word  to  realize  that 
he  was  sent  home  weighing  only  seventy-eight  pounds.  Dan 
ville  was  not  a  good  boarding-place. 

For  many  years  he  labored  at  the  paper-hanger's  trade  in 
Auburn,  but  ill  health  has  prevented  his  doing  much  in  that 
way  recently.  If,  however,  any  one  wishes  an  answer  to  a  ques 
tion  concerning  the  Ninth,  just  drop  Tallman  a  line. 

Abram  H.  Vanderbilt. — Arcadia,  whose  chief  village  is  New 
ark,  was  not  one  of  the  towns  contributing  largely  to  the  Ninth, 
but  some  good  men  live  there,  and  among  them  is  Comrade 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  447 

Vanderbilt,  who  is  one  of  the  regulars  at  reunions,  and  is  the 
president  of  the  association  in  this  current  year,  and  his  village 
is  to  entertain  the  gathering. 

The  enterprise  of  the  town  is  proverbial,,  and  the  very  best 
of  meetings  is  expected. 

Charles  S.  Warn. — Few  regiments  furnished  more  officers 
for  colored  regiments  than  the  Ninth,  and  one  of  the  men  thus 
placed  was  Comrade  Warn,  who  had  been  advanced  from  pri 
vate  to  1st  sergeant  of  Company  D.  He  was  a  Newark  boy, 
one  of  the  farmers'  lads  that  Wayne  county  furnished  in  such 
abundance,  born  there  March  18,  1843. 

Jan.  29,  18G5,  he  was  ordered  to  report  to  the  headquarters 
of  the  13th  IT.  S.  Colored  Troops  in  Smithland,  Ky.;  served  with 
the  same  till  the  following  November,  when  the  regiment  was 
mustered  out.  He  was  offered  a  similar  place  in  a  regular 
regiment  then  raising,  but  declined.  He  was  recognized  as  an 
excellent  drill-master  in  both  infantry  and  heavy  artillery,,  and 
an  expert  marksman. 

With  the  exception  of  seven  years  spent  in  Port  Huron,  he  has 
lived  in  Capac,  St.  Clair  county,  Mich.,  of  which  he  has  been 
county  clerk  for  six  years. 

George  R.  Watson. — Lieutenant  Watson  was  twenty-two 
years  old  when  he  was  mustered  in  as  1st  lieutenant  in  1864. 
The  most  of  his  service  was  upon  the  staff  of  General  Seward. 
He  resigned  in  June,  1865.  Soon  after  the  war  he  went  to 
Detroit,  engaging  there  in  the  hardware  business.  Afterwards 
he  became  the  agent  for  the  "Brush  Estate  Heirs"  of  that  city, 
discharging  successfully  his  duties  till  failing  health  compelled 
his  return  to  Auburn,  where,  in  his  mother's  house,  he  died  Oct. 
26,  1891. 

Joseph  Welling. — The  first  colonel  of  the  regiment  was  a 
resident  of  Lyons  at  the  time  of  organization,  actively  engaged 
in  the  practice  of  law.  It  is  extremely  unfortunate  that  more 
specific  data  are  not  at  hand  concerning  his  early  life,  but  dili 
gent  search  in  several  directions  has  been  absolutely  bootless. 
Seemingly,  those  who  might  were  unwilling  to  impart  informa 
tion,  and  those  whose  dispositions  were  good  had  nothing  to 
give. 

In  an  obituary  notice  appearing  in  a  Lyons  paper  near  the 
date  of  his  death,  it  is  stated  that  he  came  to  Lyons  from  Clyde 
in  the  early  fifties,,  and  immediately  became  prominent  in  his 


448  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

profession.  He  was  one  of  the  prime  movers  in  the  resuscita 
tion  of  Humanity  Lodge  of  Free  Masons,  and  was  its  first  sec 
retary.  Later  for  eight  terms  he  was  the  master.  As  stated 
in  the  earlier  pages  of  this  volume,  he  had  a  very  prominent 
part  in  the  formation  of  the  138th,  and  was  always  a  popular 
officer  with  the  men.  His  age  and  long  experience  with  men 
gave  him  an  excellent  presence,  and  it  would  seem  that  the  ac 
tive  campaign  of  his  regiment  ought  to  have  resulted  in  fame 
for  the  colonel. 

As  we  know  he  accompanied  the  regiment  only  to  Belle  Plain, 
and  some  recall  seeing  him  and  the  lieutenant  colonel  going 
down  to  the  boat  which  bore  them  to  Washington.  It  was  our 
last  view  of  the  graceful,  pleasing  officer,  at  least  in  regimentals. 
He  returned  to  Lyons  and  to  the  practice  of  his  profession,  and 
very  likely  his  leadership  of  the  Wayne  county  bar  was  never 
seriously  disputed.  Later  he  went  to  Rochester,  or  at  any  rate 
opened  an  office  there,  and  for  a  number  of  years  was  as  suc 
cessful  as  he  had  been  in  his  Lyons  practice. 

As  age  crept  upon  him  he  felt  its  weight,  and  giving  up  his 
practice  both  in  Rochester  and  Lyons,  he  retired  completely 
from  his  old  associations,  spending  the  later  years  of  his  life  in 
Delaware,  dying  finally  March  19,  1897,  in  a  Philadelphia  hos 
pital.  His  age  was  given  as  seventy-six  years,  which  would 
practically  agree  with  that  stated  in  the  muster-in  roll  of  1862, 
where  he  was  down  as  forty  years  old. 

Colonel  Welling  was  an  exceedingly  well  read  man,  and  pos 
sessed  a  large  and  carefully  studied  library.  As  a  member  of 
the  social  circle,  few  men  were  more  popular.  He  had  a  bound 
less  source  of  wit  and  anecdote,  making  him  the  life  of  the 
place  in  which  he  might  find  himself.  His  wife  and  daughter 
who  accompanied  him  to  the  camp  near  Fort  Simmons  won  the 
thorough  respect  of  all.  The  latter,  now  Mrs.  Lane,  resides  with 
her  widowed  mother  in  Lyons. 

Sidney  J.  Westfall. — Though  he  left  an  arm  at  Cedar  Creek, 
Comrade  Westfall  has  made  an  exceedingly  good  county  clerk 
for  old  Cayuga,  besides  serving  as  loan  commissioner  for  the 
county  and  water  commissioner  for  the  city  of  Auburn. 

Hiland  H.  Wheeler. — Lieutenant  Wheeler  began  this  life 
in  New  York  city  June  26,  1845,  though  a  considerable  part  of 
his  boyhood  was  spent  in  Butler,  to  which  place  his  ancestors 
had  come  early  in  the  century,  and  of  which  his  father,  the  late 


BRVT   LT.    COLONEL   A.    S.    WOOD, 
Commander  N.  Y.  Dept.  G.  A.  R,,  1898-1899. 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  449 

H.  H.  Wheeler,  was  long  an  honored  citizen.  He  had  entered 
Amherst  College  before  his  enlistment  in  Company  A,  and 
when  the  war  was  over,  he  came  back  and  finished  the  course 
in  the  class  of  1868.  Afterwards  he  taught  school  in  Vermont 
and  Massachusetts,  was  in  Columbia  Law  School  for  a  time, 
and  studied  law  with  Gov.  P.  T.  Washburn  and  Judge  James 
Barrett  at  Woodstock,  Vt.  Again  he  taught  school,,  was  in 
business,  was  clerk  in  Superior  Court,  Chicago,  and  settled  in 
Lincoln,  Neb.,  1876. 

There  he  has  been  assistant  attorney  general ;  department  re 
porter;  clerk  of  Supreme  Court,  and  state  librarian.  He  was 
assistant  to  the  attorney  general  and  had  charge  of  the  Land 
Department  of  Idaho  in  1890-'93.  He  is  the  author  of  the  Com 
piled  Statutes  of  Nebraska,  1881  to  1899.  He  has  seen  a  deal 
of  variety  in  life,  but,  apparently,  is  only  a  little  older  grown 
from  the  very  young  man  who  was  by  the  writer's  side  at 
Monocacy. 

In  1885  he  was  married  to  Miss  Grace,  daughter  of  Chief 
Justice  O.  P.  Mason,  and  is  the  proud  father  of  two  sons  and  a 
daughter. 

John  W.  Whitbeck. — Every  one  in  Company  A  remembers 
the  Whitbeck  boys.  After  the  war,  George  wandered  across 
the  sea  and  became  a  soldier  in  the  British  army.  Dr.  John  W. 
is  a  prosperous  dentist  in  Watkins,  N.  Y.,  looking  almost  as 
youthful  as  in  the  days  of  Virginia  tramping.  Evidently  life 
does  not  wear  upon  him  as  it  does  on  some  of  his  old  associates. 

Anson  S.  Wood. — "Colonel"  Wood,  one  of  the  best  known 
figures  in  the  county  if  not  in  the  state,  was  born  in  Camillus, 
Onondaga  county,  Oct.  2,  1834.  His  father,  Alvin,  was  of  Eng 
lish  descent,  while  the  family  of  his  mother,  Fanny  Wood- 
worth,  was  from  New  England.  In  the  childhood  of  Colonel 
Wood,  the  family  removed  to  Butler,  in  whose  schools  and  in 
the  Red  Creek  Academy  his  early  education  was  had. 

He  began  the  study  of  law  in  Syracuse  in  1853;  later  he  was 
in  the  offices  of  C.  D.  Lawton  and  Judge  L.  S.  Ketchum  of 
Clyde.  During  his  law  studies  he  taught  school  one  winter,  and 
in  the  fall  of  1855  he  attended  the  Albany  Law  School;  in  De 
cember  of  the  same  year  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar.  Residing 
in  South  Butler,  he  was  elected,  early  in  1856,  town  superin 
tendent  of  schools.  In  July  of  that  year  he  removed  to  Lyons, 
where  he  formed  a  law  partnership  with  the  Hon.  William 

29 


450  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Clark,  with  whom  and  the  Hon.  DeWitt  Parshall  he  practiced 
law  till  September,  1862,  also  serving  as  town  clerk  in  1858 
and  '59. 

When  the  138th  Kegiment  was  projected,  he  was  one  of  the 
early  volunteers  and  was  commissioned  1st  lieutenant  of  Com 
pany  D.  Later  he  served  as  adjutant,  and  in  May,  1863,  he  was 
promoted  to  the  captaincy  of  Company  M,  and  was  on  detached 
service  in  Elmira  in  connection  with  the  draft  rendezvous  there : 
for  a  time  he  was  assistant  adjutant  general  of  the  post.  In 
May,  1864,,  at  his  own  request,  he  was  returned  to  his  command 
and  was  with  the  regiment  throughout  the  campaign  upon 
which  it  was  then  about  entering. 

In  October  he  served  on  the  staff  of  General  J.  B.  Ricketts, 
commanding  the  3d  Division,  6th  Corps,  and  after  the  generaFs 
severe  wounding  at  Cedar  Creek,  Captain  Wood  continued  on 
the  staff  of  General  Truman  Seymour  as  judge  advocate,  Sey 
mour  having  succeeded  Ricketts.  Promoted  major,  he  returned 
to  the  regiment  and  partook  of  its  vicissitudes  till  after  the 
surrender.  Then  considering  the  war  over,,  he  resigned  his  com 
mission  in  May,  1865,  with  the  brevet  rank  of  lieutenant  colonel. 

Having  purchased  a  farm  in  Butler,  he  immediately  became 
prominent  in  local  affairs,  and  in  1866  served  the  township  as 
supervisor;  the  following  year  he  was  assistant  assessor  of  inter 
nal  revenue, and  continued  to  hold  the  position  till  the  fall  of  ?69, 
when  he  resigned  to  accept  the  nomination  for  Assemblyman 
in  one  of  the  Wayne  county  districts.  He  was  elected,  and  the 
following  year  he  was  sent  again.  In  the  mean  time  he  had 
resumed  the  practice  of  law,  locating  in  the  village  of  Wolcott. 

In  January,  1872,  G.  Hilton  Scribner,  secretary  of  state  in 
Albany,  made  Colonel  Wood  his  assistant  or  deputy,  and  he  con 
tinued  to  hold  this  place  for  two  years.  Then  with  General 
Joseph  B.  Carr,  he  served  in  the  same  capacity  six  years  from 
1879.  In  1883  he  was  one  of  the  secretaries  of  the  Republican 
State  Committee.  In  1885  he  was  unanimously  nominated  sec 
retary  of  state,  but  with  all  the  names  on  the  Republican  ticket 
was  defeated. 

Then  followed  a  single  year  in  Albany,  after  which  he  re 
sumed  his  law  practice  in  Wolcott,  having  his  residence  on 
WTood's  Island  in  Port  Bay.  At  present  he  is  associated  in  his 
profession  with  the  Hon.  George  S.  Horton.  At  all  times  Col 
onel  Wood  has  been  a  prominent  man  in  local  affairs.  He  has 


PERSONAL   SKETCHES.  451 

been  justice  of  the  peace,  trustee  of  the  Wolcott  Union  School, 
president  of  the  village  and  supervisor  of  Huron.  He  has  many 
times  been  a  delegate  to  Republican  state  conventions,  and  as 
a  speaker  in  political  campaigns  he  has  few  rivals  in  popu 
larity.  His  old  comrades-in-arms  believe  that  the  future  has 
yet  many  honors  in  store  for  him. 

He  was  a  prime  mover  in  the  formation  of  the  G.  A.  E.  Post 
in  Wolcott,  of  which  he  has  repeatedly  been  commander,  and  he 
has  been  a  member  of  the  New  York  Department  staff.  In  1898 
he  received  the  honor  of  election  to  the  command  of  the  depart 
ment,  and  for  the  ensuing  year  went  up  and  down  the  Empire 
State  looking  after  the  interests  of  this  great  organization,  re 
flecting  credit  upon  himself  and  the  regiment  that  had  sup 
ported  him  so  loyally.  For  a  number  of  years  he  has  been  at 
the  head  of  the  Wayne  County  Veteran  Association,  which 
holds  an  annual  meeting  in  the  month  of  August  at  Bonnicastle 
on  the  eastern  side  of  Great  Sodus  bay,  and  he  has  succeeded 
in  giving  to  the  same  a  reputation  which  goes  far  beyond  the 
confines  of  the  county.  His  extensive  acquaintance  throughout 
the  state  has  enabled  him  to  present  a  large  array  of  talent 
from  year  to  year,  which  the  dwellers  in  this  lakeside  county 
thoroughly  appreciate. 

William  Wood. — "Major"  Wood,  as  he  is  best  known  in  regi 
mental  circles,  was  born  in  that  part  of  the  town  of  Butler 
where  the  people  go  to  Westbury  for  post  office  favors.  His 
father  was  Horatio  N.  Wood,  long  one  of  the  most  prominent 
and  respected  farmers  in  the  town.  He  sent  the  future  major, 
who  was  born  Aug.  1,  1830,  to  Union  College  at  Schenectady, 
where  he  was  graduated  in  1856  along  with  the  famous  writer, 
Fitz  Hugh  Ludlow,  the  late  Maine  Congressman  Seth  L.  Milli- 
ken,  and  many  others  who  in  the  intervening  years  have 
achieved  distinction. 

The  next  year  he  was  graduated  from  the  Albany  Law  School, 
and  for  two  years  practiced  law  with  the  Hon.  Jacob  E.  Decker, 
who  in  1858.  '59  and  '60  was  district  attorney.  But  the  genera 
tions  of  soil-tillers  behind  him  drew  the  lawyer  back  to  the 
paternal  acres,  and  there  the  war  found  him.  No  man  was  more 
efficient  in  the  raising  of  Company  G,  and  he  was  naturally  its 
first  captain,  a  position  that  he  worthily  filled  till  he  was  called 
to  a  higher  grade.  As  major,  commanding  one  of  the  battal 
ions  of  the  Ninth,  he  was  ever  conspicuous  for  his  attention 


452  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

to  duty  and  for  meritorious  services.  He  came  home  with  a 
brevet  lieutenant  colonelcy;  indeed  Governor  Fenton,  Dec.  27, 
1864,  commissioned  him  as  lieutenant  colonel,  but  he  was  never 
mustered. 

Since  those  troublous  times  he  has  dwelt  quietly  on  the  farm, 
always  finding  time  to  attend  the  regular  Ninth  reunions  and  to 
rear  his  family  of  five  children.  In  1886  his  fellow  citizens 
thought  so  well  of  him  that  they  sent  him  to  Albany  to  repre 
sent  eastern  Wayne  in  the  Assembly. 

To-day,  in  a  green  old  age  he  looks  back  over  times  of  peril 
and  forward  to  a  happy  reunion  with  the  many  who  have  pre 
ceded  him  to  fame's  eternal  camping  ground.  For  ages,  history 
has  sung  the  praises  of  Cincinnatus;  America's  story  has  that 
worthy  multiplied  by  thousands,  and  in  that  proud  number  we 
include  the  name  of  our  Butler  farmer  and  lieutenant  colonel. 


"It  is  an  old  belief, 

That  on  some  solemn  shore 
Beyond  the  sphere  of  grief, 

Dear  friends  shall  meet  once  more. 

"Beyond  the  sphere  of  time 
And  sin  and  fate's  control, 

Serene  in  changeless  prime 
Of  body  and  of  soul. 

"That  creed  I  fain  would  keep; 

That  faith  I'll  not  forego. 
Eternal  be  the  sleep, 

If  not  to  waken  so." 


ROSTER.  453 

CHAPTER     XXX. 

ROSTER  OF  THE  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

The  basis  of  the  data  given  is  the  material,  preserved  in  the 
office  of  the  adjutant  general  in  Albany,  described  as  trans 
cripts  of  rolls  now  in  the  custody  of  the  War  Department, 
Washington.  To  insure  accuracy,  every  name  should  have  been 
compared  with  the  latter  collection,  but  this  privilege,  though 
earnestly  sought,  was  unqualifiedly  denied.  Each  company  roll, 
however,  has  been  submitted  to  the  inspection  of  one  or  more 
members  of  the  same;  in  this  way  numerous  corrections  have 
been  made;  notwithstanding  this,  they  must  still  abound  in 
errors.  The  sole  comment  in  sending  out  the  compilation  is 
that  under  the  circumstances  it  is  the  very  best  possible. 

In  the  record  of  transferrals  to  the  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.  it  is 
thought  unnecessary  to  name  the  company  to  which  transferral 
is  made,  it  being  remembered  that  Company  I  of  the  2d  was 
made  up  of  men  from  I,  B  and  C  of  the  Ninth;  K  of  those  of  K, 
F,  E  and  H;  L  took  the  "left  overs"  of  L,  A  and  G,  in  part, 
while  M  had  M,  D  and  the  remainder  of  G. 

The  original  138th  N.  Y.  Infantry,  with  the  exception  of  Com 
pany  B  and  the  field  and  staff,  was  mustered  into  the  U.  S. 
service  Sept.  8,  1862.  The  exceptions,  as  above,  were  mustered 
in  September  9. 

In  taking  data  for  officers,,  read  the  date  following  promotion 
as  that  of  Muster-in ;  the  next,  or  that  of  rank,  explains  itself. 

For  privates  and  non-commissioned  officers  the  name  is  fol 
lowed  by  age;  next  date  of  enlistment  and  town  to  which  en 
listment  is  ascribed;  then  date  of  Muster-in  and  period  if  for 
less  than  three  years  (unless  otherwise  stated  the  soldier  is 
mustered  in  as  private);  next,  any  incident  in  service,  as 
wounded,  taken  prisoner,  or  promotion;  finally  date  and  manner 
of  leaving  service,  thus : 

Doe,  John,  age  20;  enlisted  Aug.  22,  '62,  Galen;  mustered  in 
Sept.  8,  Corp.;  wd.  June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  mustered  out 
July  6,  '65. 

To  economize  space,  abbreviations  are  used  as  much  as  possible.  Ob 
servance  of  the  following  list  will  facilitate  the  reading  of  the  rolls: 
Corp.  =  Corporal;  Sergt.  =  Sergeant;  d.  =  died;  dis.  =  discharged;  k.  = 
killed;  wd.  =  wounded;  hosp.  =  hospital;  M.  O.  =  mustered  out;  trans. 
=  transferred;  Vet.  or  V.  R.  C.  =  Veteran  Reserve  Corps;  H.  A.  = 
Heavy  Artillery. 


454  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

FIELD  AND  STAFF. 
COLONELS. 

Joseph  Welling,  40;  Aug.  27,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  9;  rank  from 
Aug.  27;  dis.  May  21,  '64. 

William  H.  Seward,  Jr.,  from  Lieut.  Colonel,  May  22,  '64;  wd. 
Monocacy,  July  9,  '64;  promoted  Brigadier  General  Sept. 
13,  '64. 

Edward  P.  Taft,  from  Lieut.  Colonel,  Sept.  15,  '64;  M.  O.,  July 
6,  '65. 

James  W.  Snyder,  from  Lieut.  Colonel,  Dec.  27,  '64;  not  mus 
tered. 

LIEUTENANT  COLONELS. 

William  H.  Seward,  Jr.,  24;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  9;  rank 

from  Aug.  22;  promoted  Colonel. 
Edward  P.  Taft,  from  Major,  May  22,  '64;  wd.  Monocacy,  July 

9,  '64;  promoted  Colonel. 
James  W.  Snyder,  from  Major,  Sept.  15,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65, 

Brevet  Colonel,  U.  S.  Vols. 
William  Wood,  from  Major,  Dec.  27,  '64;  not  mustered. 

MAJORS. 

Edward  P.  Taft,  30;  Aug.  24,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  9;  rank  from 

Aug.  24;  promoted  Lieut.  Colonel. 
James  W.  Snyder,  from  Captain,  Co.  A,  Jan.  18,  '63;  rank  from 

Dec.  30,  '62;  promoted  Lieut.  Colonel. 
William  R.  Wasson,  from  Adjutant,  Dec.  30,  '62;  dis.  June  12, 

'63. 
Charles  Burgess,  from  Captain,  Co.  F,  March  9,  '64;  rank  from 

Jan.  8;  dismissed  Jan.  16,  '65. 
Truman  Gregory,  from  Captain,  Co.  B,  June  10,  '64;  rank  from 

May  21;  not  mustered;  d.  June  23  from  wounds  received  at 

Cold  Harbor. 
William  Wood,  from  Captain,  Co.  G,  Sept.  28,  '64;  rank  from 

June  28;  wd.  Sailor's  Creek  April  6,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65, 

Brevet  Lieut.  Colonel,  U.  S.  Vols. 
Irvin  Squyer,  from  Captain,  Co.  K,  Dec.  15,  '64;  rank  from  Sept. 

15;  dis.  May  17,  '65. 
Auson  S.  Wood,  from  Captain,  Co.  M,  Feb.  9,  '65;  rank  from 

Nov.  28,  '64;  dis.  May  16,  '65,  Brevet  Lieut.  Colonel  U.  S. 

Vols. 
Sullivan  B.  Lamoreaux,  from  Captain,  Co.  F,  Feb.  28,  '65;  rank 

from  Feb.  3;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  M.  O., 

Sept.  29,  '65,  Brevet  Lieut.  Colonel,  U.  S.  Vols. 


WILLIAM   H.    SEWARD,   JR., 
Brigadier  General,  Sept.  13,  1864. 


FIELD    AND    STAFF.  455 


ADJUTANTS. 

William  R.  Wasson,  23;  Sept.  3,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  9;  rank  from 

Sept.  3;  promoted  Major. 
Anson  S.  Wood,  from  1st  Lieut.,  Co.  D,  acting  from  Dec.  25,  '62, 

to  March  14,  '63;  Adjutant  to  June  5,  '63. 
William  DeW.  Pringle,  served  as  Adjutant  for  some  time,  but 

Albany  gives  no  data. 
William  I.  Parrish,  also  acted  in  the  same  capacity  in  the  fall 

of  1864. 
Philip  Sturge  was  acting  Adjutant  when  wounded  at  Cedar 

Creek. 

Guy  A.  Brown  was  acting  Adjutant  later,  and  was  succeeded  by 
Vincent  A,  Kenyon,  from  Co.  E,  acting  Adjutant,  Feb.  3-25,  '65; 

also  April  2-May  19,  '65;  appointed  Adjutant  in  June,  '65, 

and  M.  O.  as  Adjutant  with  the  regiment. 

QUARTERMASTERS. 

Henry  P.  Knowles,  33;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  9;  rank  from 
Aug.  19 ;  promoted  Commissary  of  Subsistence,  U.  S.  Vols., 
Sept.  20,  '64. 

Lyman  C.  Comstock,  from  Co.  C;  it  is  possible  that  Lieut.  Corn- 
stock  filled  the  interval  between  Knowles  and  Barton  as 
acting  Quartermaster,  but  the  Albany  record  has  nothing 
to  show  for  it. 

Lewis  Barton,  from  Co.  D,  Feb.  18,  '65 ;  rank  from  Feb.  3 ;  M.  O., 
July  6,  '65. 

SURGEONS. 

Samuel  A.  Sabin,  31;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Palmyra;  Sept.  9;  rank  from 

Aug.  23;  dis.  Jan.  11,  '65. 
Dwight  S.  Chamberlain,  from  Assistant  Surgeon,  Jan.  20,  '65; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

ASSISTANT    SURGEONS. 

Byron  DeWitt,  35;  Aug.  28,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  9;  rank  from 

Aug.  28,  '62;  dis.  Aug.  19,  '63. 
Dwight  S.  Chamberlain,  26;  Nov.  22,  '62,  Lyons;  rank  from  Nov. 

5;  promoted  Surgeon. 
Byron  L.  Flower,  24;  Sept.  19,  '63,  Washington;  rank  from  Sept. 

3;  d.  at  Fort  Simmons  Oct.  24,  '63. 

John  W.  Brandt,  40;  Nov.  12,  '63,  Ontario;  dis.  Dec.  15,  '64. 
Otto  Schultze,  29;  April  5,  '65,  in  the  field;  rank  from  March  16; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

CHAPLAINS. 

Warham  Mudge,  40;  Sept.  9,  '62,  Palmyra;  Sept.  9;  dis.  Sept. 
26,  '64. 


456  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Stephen  T.  Devoe,  from  1st  Sergt.,  Co.  G,  Dec.  17,  '64;  rank  from 
Nov.  17;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

NON-COMMISSIONED  STAFF. 

SERGEANT-MAJORS. 

Lyman  C.  Comstock,  24;  Aug.  17,  '62,  Fleming;  promoted  2d 
Lieut.,  Co.  C. 

Charles  W.  Hough,  from  Sergt.,  Co.  E,  March  30,  '63;  promoted 
2d  Lieut.,  Co.  B. 

Guy  A.  Brown,  from  Sergt.,  Co.  M;  no  dates  accessible;  pro 
moted  1st  Lieut.,  Co.  M. 

John  E.  Dean,  from  Co.  I,  Dec.  15,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

QUARTERMASTER-SERGEANTS. 

James  H.  Ellis,  from  Co.  D,  Sept.  8,  '62;  promoted  2d  Lieut, 

Co.  E. 
Edward  Sincerbeaux,  from  Co.  F,  April  20,  '64;  returned  to 

company  May  29,  '65. 
Lewis  Smith,  from  Co.  G,  May  30,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

COMMISSARY-SERGEANTS. 

John  W.  Kice,  23;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  9;  promoted  2d 

Lieut.,  Co.  A. 
Josiah  T.  Crittenden,  from  Sergt.,  Co.  M,  no  date;  promoted  2d 

Lieut.,  Co.  B. 
William  L.  Jaquett,  from  Sergt.,  Co.  E,  Feb.  1,  '65;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 

HOSPITAL-STEWARDS. 

John  F.  Failing,  22;  Aug.  16,  '62,  Arcadia;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Walter  G.  Duckett,  from  Co.  K;  served  with  2d  Battalion  at 

Fort  Foote;  dis.  Aug.  10,  '64,  to  be  Hospital-Steward,  U. 

S.  A. 

CHIEF    BUGLER. 

James  Bivins,  from  Co.  K,  Sept.  8,  '62;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

CHIEF  MUSICIAN. 

Jacob  Sager.  from  Co.  H,  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 


COMPANY   A. 

Capt.  J.  H.  Hyde.  Capt.  G.  W.  Brinkerhoff. 

Capt.  J,  W.  Snyder,  later  Major,  Lt.  Colonel  and  Colonel. 

*Egbert  H.  Cady.        2nd  Lieut.  T.  S.  Harvey.       H.  H.  Wheeler,  Jr. 


*Killed  at  Cold  Harbor.    The  first  member  of  the  regiment  to  fall  in  battle. 


COMPANY  A.  457 

COMPANY  A. 

This  company  owed  its  origin  largely  to  the  force  and  energy 
of  its  first  captain,  James  W.  Snyder,  ably  supported  by  Lieu 
tenants  Hyde  and  Campbell.  August  6th,  1862,  a  large  meeting 
of  citizens  was  held  in  front  of  the  Red  Creek  Hotel,  presided 
over  by  Abel  Lyon,  and  the  Hon.  T.  M.  Pomeroy  of  Auburn 
spoke  to  nearly  2000  people.  He  was  followed  by  the  future 
captain  and  later  commander  of  the  regiment,  who  made  an 
impassioned  address.  Nearly  half  the  company  was  raised 
there  and  then.  Over  $5,000  was  subscribed  to  help  on  the 
bounty  fund,  the  ladies  contributing  liberally.  The  majority 
of  the  men  came  from  that  part  of  the  town  of  Wolcott  known 
as  Red  Creek.  Almost  all  the  others  came  from  Huron  and 
Butler,  to  which  towns  Lieutenants  Hyde  and  Campbell,  re 
spectively,  belonged.  Before  the  company  left  for  the  seat  of 
war,  admiring  fellow  citizens  gave  to  Captain  Snyder  a  beau 
tiful  sword  in  testimony  of  their  regard  and  appreciation. 

CAPTAINS. 

James  W.  Snyder,  32;  Wolcott,  Sept.  8,  '62;  date  of  rank,  Aug. 

9;  promoted  Major. 
James  H.  Hyde,  from  1st  Lieut.,  Dec.  30,  '62;  wounded  at  Cedar 

Creek;  discharged  Dec.  27,  1864. 
George  W.  Brinkerhoff,  from  1st  Lieut.,  Dec.  27,  '64;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  1865;  Brev.  Major,  U.  S.  Vols. 

FIRST    LIEUTENANTS. 

James  H.  Hyde,  34;  Huron,  Sept.  8,  '62;  date  of  rank,  Aug.  9; 

promoted  Captain. 
Rufus  M.  Campbell,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Dec.  30,  '62;  discharged 

Oct.  4,  1864;  wounded  at  Cold  Harbor. 
George  W.  Brinkerhoff,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Oct.  25,  '64;  promoted 

Captain. 
John  W.  Rice,  from  field  and  staff,  April  15,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6, 

1865. 
Benjamin  F.  Barnes,  from  Co.  E,  Dec.  27,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

SECOND   LIEUTENANTS. 

Rufus  M.  Campbell,  37;  Savannah,  Sept.  8,  '62;  date  of  rank, 
Aug.  9;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 

Jakeway  R.  Hoff,  from  1st  Sergt,  Dec.  30,  '62;  promoted  1st 
Lieut.,  Co.  E. 

George  W.  Brinkerhoff,  from  Sergt.,  Mar.  1,  '64;  wounded  at 
Cold  Harbor;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 

Edwin  Nash,  from  Sergt.;  not  mustered,  commission  not  arriv 
ing  till  after  his  capture  at  Cold  Harbor;  date  of  rank, 
April  4,  1864. 


458  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Benson  Conklin,  from  Sergt.,  Mar.  17,  '64;  discharged  Dec.  28, 

1864. 
William  J.  Hitchcock,  27;  enrolled    May  12,  '65,  in  Va.  from 

16th  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  date  of  rank,  Sept.  12,  '64;  trans,  to  2d 

N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Henry  C.  Stern,  from  Co.  G,  Dec.  16,  '64;  discharged  Mar.  30, 

1865. 
Truman  S.  Harvey,  from  1st  Sergt.,  Feb.  28,  '65;  resigned  June 

14,  1865. 
John  C.  Elmandorf,  from  1st  Sergt,  Feb.  3,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6, 

1865. 

NON-COMMISSIONED  OFFICERS  AND  PRIVATES. 

Abrams,  William  H.,  24;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  died 

Jan.  2,  1863,  hospital,  Washington. 
Ackerman,  Josiah,  36;  July  28,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp. 

April  17,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  1865. 
Ackerson,  John,  28;  April  28,  '63,  Wolcott;  May  6;  wounded  at 

Cold  Harbor;  dis.  Mar.  18,  1865,  hospital,  Alexandria,  Va. 
Allen,  George  W.,  18;  Feb.  15,  '64,  Onondaga;  Feb.  15;  trans. 

June  27,  1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Armstrong,  Thomas  J.,  42;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Butler;  Jan.  4,  '64; 

wd.  Cold  Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Arne,  Fitch  M.,  18;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Wolcott,  1  year;  Sept.  15;  M.  O., 

July  6,  1865. 
Arne,  Hamilton  M.,  44;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  21;  dis.  June 

19,  1865,  hospital,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 
Arne,  William,  18;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Mar. 

1,  '65;  wd.  Cold  Harbor  June  1,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Atwater,  Julius,  39;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Genoa;  Jan.  5;  prisoner,  Mo- 

nocacy,  July  9,  '64;  died  Oct.  1,  '64,  Parole  Camp  hospital, 

Annapolis,  Md. 
Ayler,  Jacob,  24;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Angelica;  Sept.  6,  1  year;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek  Oct.  19,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  1865. 
Bachman,  Augustus,  18;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Venice;  Dec.  30;  prisoner, 

Monocacy,  July  9,  '64;  died  Oct.  19,  Richmond,  Va. 
Backman,  Reuben,v19;  Aug.  12,  '64,  Fayette;  Aug.  12,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  1865. 
Baldwin,  Orrison,  27;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Albany,  1  year;  Sept.  6;  no 

M.  O. 
Ball,  Ambrose,  32;  Sept.  12,  '64,  Springtown;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  1865. 
Bancroft,  Albert  W.,  26;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis. 

June  5,  1865. 
Bancroft,  Samuel  E.,  18;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  1865. 
Barber,  George  D.,  21;  July  21,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8  Corp.- 

dis.  Jan.  20,  1863,  on  account  of  accidental  wound  received 

in  camp. 


COMPANY  A.  459 

Barber,  William,  23;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

Aug.  23,  1864. 
Barnes,  James,  23;  May  14,  '63,  Palmyra;  June  4;  k.  Cedar 

Creek  Oct.  19,  1864. 
Barnett,  Harrison,  21;  July  2,  '63,  Wolcott;  July  13;  Corp., 

April  17,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  1865. 
Barton,  Danforth  W.,  28;  Aug.  6,  '63,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  25,  '63;  Sergt.,  Jan.  1,  '65;  prisoner,  Monocacy,  July 

9,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  1865. 
Barton,  John  S.,  22;  Sept.  16,  '64,  Ridgeway,  1  year;  Sept.  16; 

k.  Cedar  Creek  Oct.  19,  1864. 
Barton,  John  W.,  35;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Victory;  Sept.  8;  d.  Feb.  23, 

1863,  Fort  Reno,  D.  C. 
Barton,  Thomas  J.,  22;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  prisoner, 

Monocacy,  July  9,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  1865. 
Barton,  William  H.,  32;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  1865. 
Bates,  William  E.,  25;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Niles;  Jan.  4,  '64;  dis.  May 

13,  1865,  hospital,  Baltimore. 

Beadle,  Joseph  O.,  21;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Savannah;  Dec.  29;  no  M.  O. 
Becker,  James  G.,  18;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Groton;  Sept.  3,  1  year;  M. 

O.,  July  6,  1865. 
Becker,  Jeremiah,  31;  Sept.  1,  '64,  1  year;  Sept.  3;  M.  O.,  July 

6, 1865. 
Beebe,  Barney,  18;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6, 

1865. 

Bell,  Myron  A.,  21;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  no  M.  O. 
Bickley,  John,  40;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Conquest;  Aug.  30,  1  year;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek  Oct.  19,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  1865. 
Biddlecome,  Benjamin  H.,  36;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  22; 

deserted  Sept.  21,  1864. 
Bigelow,  Nicholas  V.,  18;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.. 

July  6,  1862. 

Billings,  John,  40;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Sodus;  Jan.  4,  '64;  wd.  Winches 
ter  Sept.  19  and  Cedar  Creek,  Oct.  19,  '64;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. ;  absent  at  time  through  wounds. 
Black,  James,  36;  Sept.  3,  '63,  Galen;  Sept.  22;  deserted  June  5, 

1864. 
Black,  Nathaniel,  23;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Palmyra;  Dec.  21;  Corp., 

Sept.  1,  '64;  trans.  June  27, 1865,  2d  N.~Y.  H.  A. 
Blakeley,  Charles  A.,  24;  Aug.  7,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb. 

9, 1863,  Washington. 
Blakeley,  John  R.,  21;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  Musician; 

k.  Cold  Harbor  June  1,  1864. 
Blanchard,  Charles  W.,  26;  Dec.  18,  Wolcott;  Dec.  31;  dis.  May 

26,  1865. 
Blanchard,  George  W.,  28;  Dec.  29,  Huron;  Jan.  2,  '64;  trans. 

June  27, 1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Corp.,  Sept.  1,  '65. 
Blankman,  Henry,  35;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  4;  deserted 

Sept.  12, 1864. 


460  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Booth,  Storrs,  22;  Nov.  28,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  7;  dis.  April  19, 

1864,  Fort  Baker,  D.  C. 

Boyse,  Peter,  18;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  no  M.  O. 
Bracey,  Martin,  20;  Dec.  16,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  16;  no  M.  O. 
Brefford,  George  A.,  26;  July  27,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May 

16, 1865,  hospital,  York,  Penn. 
Brink,  Reuben,  18;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  1865. 
Brinkerhoff,  George  W.,  23;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Wolcott;  Aug.  9,  '62, 

Sergt.;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Brown,  Edward,  23;  Feb.  25,  '63,  Victory;  May  6;  deserted  June 

25,  1864. 
Brown,  George,  34;  July  6,  '63,  Palmyra;  July  13;  trans.  June 

27,  1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Brown,  Gilbert,  27;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Marion;  Dec.  30;  wd.  Snicker's 

Gap  July,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  1865,  hospital,  Rochester. 
Brown,  James  S.,  22;  Aug.  19,  '63,  Sterling;  Sept.  2;  deserted 

July  8,  1864. 
Brown,  Oscar,  18;  April  18,  '63,  Victory;  May  6;  prisoner,  Mo- 

nocacy,  July  9,  '64;  d.  Feb.  4,  1865,  Danville,  Va. 
Browning,  Jacob,  42;  May  28,  '63,  Galen;  June  4;  k.  Sept.  19, 

1864,  Winchester,  Va. 

Brunney,  John,  36;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Dec.  3, 

1863,  Fort  Simmons,  D.  0. 

Brush,  William  C.,  32;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  1865. 
Bull,  Albert  H.,  18;  Dec.  9,  '63,  Marion;  Dec.  9;  wd.  Cedar  Creek 

Oct.  19,  '64;  dis.  June  27,  1865,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Bull,  Henry  A.,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Huron;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June  27, 

1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Burdell,  Lewis,  22;  Sept.  7,  '63,  Galen;  Sept.  22;  trans.  June  31, 

1864,  Signal  Corps. 

Burke,  John,  29;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Albany,  1  year;  Sept.  3;  M.  O.. 
July  6,  1865. 

Cady,  Egbert  H.,  18;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  k.  Cold  Har 
bor  June  1,  1864. 

Camfield,  John  M.,  no  data  found;  prisoner,  Monocacy,  July  9, 
'65;  d.  Dec.  15,  1864,  Danville,  Va. 

Campbell,  William,  23;  Dec.  21,  Palmyra;  Dec.  21;  trans.  June 
27, 1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Carnes,  Edward  L.,  19;  Dec.  5,  '63,  Moravia;  Dec.  5;  trans. 
June  27,  1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Carpenter,  Charles  S.,  42;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Lyons;  Jan.  2;  dis.  April 
13,  1865,  Washington. 

Carter,  George,  21;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Geneva;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June  27, 

1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Casterline,  Joseph  B.,  23;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 
April  12,  '64;  wd.  Cold  Harbor;  Sergt.,  Nov.  1,  '64;  M.  O., 
July  6,  1865. 


COMPANY  A.  461 

Champion,  Henry,  18;  Sept.  19,  '63,  Galen;  Sept.  22;  trans. 

June  27,  1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Chase,  John,  18;  Dec.  9,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  9;  no  M.  O. 
Church,  Lewis,  34;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  wd. 

Petersburg  April    2,  '65;  M.   O.,  July  6,  1865,  hospital, 

Rochester,,  N.  Y. 
Clarke,  Ichabod,  30;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Groton;  Sept.  3,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  1865. 
Cole,  Peter  W.,  34;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor  June  1,  '64;  deserted  July  28,  1864. 
Cole,  Robert,  22;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6, 

1865. 
Conklin,  Benson,  26;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Wolcott;  Aug.  28,  '62;  Corp., 

Dec.  23,  '62;  Sergt,  April  12,  '64;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Conklin,  Morris,  29;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Rose;  Dec.  24;  trans.  June  27, 

1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Conway,  Daniel,  18;  Aug.  7,  '63,  Fair  Haven;  Aug.  18;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cooper,  George  H.,  18;  Nov.  13,  '63,  Galen;  Nov.  19;  trans.  June 

27,  1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cornell,  Alpheus  P.,  42;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Butler;  Dec.  21;  trans. 

June  27,  1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cortright,  Chester,  20;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Nov.  1,  '64;  wd.  April  2,  '65,  Petersburg;  dis.  June  26,  1865, 

hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Crawford,  Myron  H.,  23;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Sergt., 

Oct.  1,  '63;  d.  Aug.  24,  1864,  Frederick,  Md.,  of  wounds  re 
ceived  at  Monocacy  July  9. 

Cresswell,  William,  28;  May  28,  '63,  Galen;  May  28;  no  M.  O. 
Crosby,  Michael,  28;  Aug.  13,  '63,  Wolcott;  Sept.  2;  trans.  June 

27,  1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Curtiss,  Horace  W.,  18;  Sept.  19,  '64,  Albion;  1  year;  dis.  June 

26, 1864,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Dare,  William,  30;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  no  date; 

d.  Dec.  20,  1862,  Fort  Reno,  D.  C. 
Delong,  Thomas  E.,  21;  Jan.  15,  '64,  Syracuse;  dis.  June  8, 

1864,  probably  to  receive  commission  in  colored  regiment. 
Demott,  Lewis,  39;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Fayette;  Dec.  28;  prisoner,  Mo 
nocacy,  July  9,  '64;  dis.  July  15,  1865,  Annapolis,  Md. 

Derby,  Albert,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Huron;  Jan.  15;  dis.  June  9, 1865, 

hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Deuel,  John  W.,  32;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Albany;  1  year;  dis.  May  31, 

1865,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 

Devinney,  Newton,  23;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp.; 

dis.  April  6,  1865,  Elmira,  N.  Y. 
Ditton,  John,  21;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  deserted  Oct. 

25,  1862. 
Dorsey,  Michael,  34;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb.  4, 

1864,  Fort  Simmons. 


462  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Dudley,  Henry,  31;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Huron;  Jan.  5,  '64;  wd.  Cold 
Harbor  June  1,  '64 ;  dis.  Nov.  28, 1864,  Alexandria,  Va. 

Duffin,  William,  44;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Mentz;  Dec.  21;  no  M.  O. 

Dusenbery,  Cornell,  26;  Aug.  7,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Mar. 
1,  '65;  Sergt.,  April  17,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  1865. 

Dyer,  David  H.,  19;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Troy;  Jan.  25;  wd.  Winchester 
Sept.  19,  '64;  dis.  Sept.  23,  1865,  hospital,  Hartford,  Conn. 

Easton,  Charles  A.,  26;  July  27,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp.; 
dis.  April  16,  1864,  Fort  Baker. 

Easton,  David,  18;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  5;  trans.  Feb.  3, 
1865,  Co.  E,  14  Vet.  R.  C. 

Eldridge,  Benjamin  H.,  44;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Galen;  Jan.  5,  '64; 
prisoner,  Monocacy,  July  9,  '64;  dis.  Sept.  21,  1865,  Roch 
ester,  N.  Y. 

Ellsworth,  George,  26;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  4;  Corp.,  Sept. 
1,  '64;  Sergt.,  Nov.  1,  '64;  wd.  June  1,  Cold  Harbor  and 
Monocacy  July  9,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Ellsworth  had  already  served  two  years  in  Co.  H,  23d  N.  Y. 
Infantry. 

Ellsworth,  Orson,  43;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Huron;  Jan.  4;  d.  Sept.  21, 

1864,  Sandy  Hook. 

Elmendorf,  John  C.,  24;  July  27,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  25,  '63;  Sergt,  April  12,  '64;  1st  Sergt,  Aug.  9,  '64; 

promoted  2d  Lieut.;  wd.  Cold  Harbor  June  1,  1864. 
Elmer,  Albert,  21;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  k.  Cedar  Creek 

Oct.  19,  '64. 
Elmer,  John  E.,  29;  July  31,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  wd.  and 

prisoner  at  Monocacy  July  9,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Emery,  Seward,  21;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  29, 

1865,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 

Field,  Nathaniel  J.,  20;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  5,  1  year; 

wd.   Cedar   Creek   Oct.   19,   '64;  dis.   July  28,   1865,   El- 

mira. 
Fitch,  Allen  H.,  44;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Butler;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  1865,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Fitch,  Cyrus  E.,  18;  July  26,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Fitch,  George  H.,  18;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Butler;  Dec.  29;  dis.  June  14, 

'65,  hospital,  York,  Penn. 
Fitch,  Irving  L.,  18;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Butler;  Dec.  29;  k.  Cedar 

Creek  Oct.  19,  '64. 
Foster,  John,  25;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Savannah;  Jan.  4,  '64;  prisoner, 

Monocacy,  July  9,  '64;  dis.  June  9,  '65,  hospital,  Baltimore. 
Fox,  George  D.,  37;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Huron;  Jan.  2,  '64;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Frederick,  John  D.,  26;  Jan.  13,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  13;  Corp., 

April  17,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Frost,  Henry  C.,  20;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  d.  Jan.  14, 

'63,  Fort  Reno. 


COMPANY  A.  463 

Frost,  Oscar  J.,  18;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 
12,  '64;  Q.  M.  Sergt,  Sept.  1,  '64;  1st  Sergt,  April  17,  '65; 
M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Gage,  Barton,  25;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Aug.  26, 

'64,  Harper's  Ferry. 
Gage,  John  S.,  18;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  deserted  July 

8,  '64. 
Gall,  William,  31;  Jan.  18,  '64,  Geddes;  Jan.  19;  k.  Monocacy 

July  9,  '64. 
Gardner,  George  M.,  20;  July  25,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

Feb.  18,  '63. 
Gibbs,  William  H.,  38;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Wolcott;  trans.  Mar.  1,  '64, 

82d  Co.,  2d  Bat.,  V.  R.  C. 
Gould,  Grover,  29;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Skaneateles;  1  year;  trans,  to  Co. 

A,  from  Co.  B,  3d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Graham,  Alfred  L.,  28;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  12,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Green,  Charles,  24;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  deserted  Feb. 

18,  '63. 
Green,  Luther,  21;  Mar.  4,  '63,  Victory;  Mar.  19;  dis.  Mar.  29, 

'64,  Fort  Baker. 
Gruberv  Daniel,  20;  Aug.  27,  '64,  Angelica;  Sept.  6,  1  year;  d. 

Feb.  9,  '65,  in  the  field. 
Guest,  Joseph,  44;  Dec.  4,  '63,  Lyons;  Jan.  2,  '64;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Guild,  Esen  Z.,  21;  Aug.  6,  '63,  Galen;  Aug.  18;  dis.  Nov.  19, 

'64,  hospital,  Washington. 
Hall,  Aaron  F.,  31;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Savannah;  Dec.  15;  Corp.,  Nov. 

1,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hall,  Andrew  S.,  28;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Savannah;  Jan.  5;  prisoner, 

Monocacy,  July  9,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hall,  Melvin,  32;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Eose;  Dec.  29;  prisoner,  Monocacy, 

July  9,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '64,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hannon,  Mark,  29;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  5;  wd.  and  pris 
oner,  Monocacy,  July  9,  '64;  wd.  Cedar  Creek,  Va.,  Oct.  19, 

'64;  dis.  Aug.  2,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 
Harvey,  Truman  SM  21;  July  27,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

June  29,  '63;  Sergt,  April  12,  '64;  1st  Sergt,  Mar.  1,  '65; 

promoted  2d  Lieut 
Hastings,  William,  21;  Sept.  12,  '63,  Lyons;  Sept.  22;  deserted 

June  3,  '64. 
Hazard,  Helon,  22;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 

Helmer,  Afred  E.,  28;  Dec.  15,  '63,  Seneca  Falls;  prisoner,  Mo 
nocacy,  July  9,  '64;  d.  Oct.  15,  '64,  Richmond,  Va. 
Hermance,  Benjamin  F.,  18;  Sept  3,  '64,  Groton;  1  year;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek  Oct.  19,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Higgins,  Charles,  18;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Montezuma;  Jan.  2,  '64;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


464  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Hill,  Charles  S.,  25;  May  30,  '63,  Fair  Haven;  June  23;  dis.  Jan. 

22,  '64,  Fort  Simmons. 

Hinman,  Enos,  43;  Dec.  15,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  29;  no  M.  O. 
Hoff,  Jakeway  R.,  25;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  1st  Sergt.; 

promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Hoffman,  William  P.,  24;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Hollenbeck,  Charles  B.,  17;  Feb.  2,  '64,  Cortland;  Feb.  2;  dis. 

June  30,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 

Hollenbeck,  David,  43;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Parma;  Jan.  4;  no  M.  O. 
Hollenbeck,  Henry,  19;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  4;  wd.  Peters 
burg,  April  2,  '65;  dis.  July  8,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Hollenbeck,  William,  18;  Feb.  2,  '64,  Cortland;  Feb.  2;  dis.  June 

30,  '65,  hospital,  Baltimore. 
Hood,  Arthur  D.,  18;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  Corp.,  April 

17,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hosmer,  Major  F.,  18;  Sept.  13,  '64,  Groton;  Sept.  13,  1  year; 

wd.  Cedar  Creek  Oct.  19,  '64;  d.  Dec.  9,  '64,  Cold  W^ater, 

Mich. 
Howard,  Abner,  44;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Albany;  1  year;  M.  O.,  Julv 

6,  '65. 
Hoyt,  Evelyn,  26;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6, 

'65. 
Humphrey,  Enos,  23;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  5,  '64;  dis.  June 

15,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Hunt,  James,  40;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6, 

'65. 
Johnson,  Horace  A.,  18;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  29;  d.  July 

28,  '64,  Frederick,  Md.,  from  wounds  received  at  Monocacy 

July  9. 
Johnson,  Lawrence,  18;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Savannah;  Dec.  20;  dis. 

Nov.  9,  '64,  for  promotion  1st  Lieut.,  8th  U.  S.  Colored  H.  A. 
Johnson,  Morris,  22;  Dec.  21,  Savannah;  Jan.  6,  '64;  Sergt.,  no 

date;  prisoner,  Monocacy,  July  9,  '64;  dis.  June  9,  '65,  hos 
pital,  Baltimore. 
Jones,  Edward  C.,  34;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  4;  wd.  June  16, 

'64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
June,  Charles,  25;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Lansing;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July  6, 

'65. 

Keeler,  James,  22;  May  20,  '63,  Galen;  deserted  June  15,  '64. 
Keeler,  Joseph,  44;  Aug.  15,  '64,  Ledyard;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Keeslar,  Daniel  C.,  28;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.;  dis. 

as  1st  Sergt.,  April  6,  '64,  Fort  Baker.    Vid.  Co.  E. 
Ketchum,  Alvah  R.,  21;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Galen;  Jan.  2;  deserted 

July  5,  '64. 
Ketchum.  Newton,  19;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Albany;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
King,  George  D.,  19;  July  25,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June 

14,  '65,  Elmira,  N.  Y. 


COMPANY  A.  465 

Knapp,  Andrew,  41;  July  27,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Sergt., 

April  12,  '64;  d.  Sept.  22,  '64. 
Knapp,  Franklin  E.,  20;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Savannah;  Jan.  2,  '64; 

d.  Sept.  15,  '64,  Fort  Reno. 
Koon,  Alonzo,  23;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  30, 

'65,  hospital,  Baltimore. 
Lake,  John  R.,  43;   Aug.  6,  '63,  Lyons;    Sept.  2;    trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lakey,  William  H.,  18;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Lawlor,  James,  20;  Oct.  6,  '64,  Tarrytown;  Oct.  6,  1  year;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lefavor,  James  M.,  40;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Conquest;  Aug.  30,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Lefler,  Daniel,  36;   Dec.  20,  '63,  Tyre;    Dec.    23;    trans.    June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Lemon,  William,  35;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Seneca  Falls;  wd.  Cold  Har 
bor  June  1,  '64;  dis.  July  13,  '65,  hospital,  Albany,  N.  Y. 
Leroy,  John,  21;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  d.  Mar.  13,  '64, 

hospital,  Washington. 

Lewis,  Joseph,  28;  July  11,  '63,  Galen;  July  11;  no  M.  O. 
Longer,  Cyrus  B.,  44;  July  27,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  artificer, 

Jan.  1,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Lough,  John,  22;  Jan.  13,  '64,  Macedon;  Jan.  15;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Lower,  Luther,  25;  Aug.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  deserted  Feb.  15,  '63. 
Lynch,  David  T.,  31;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  26;  prisoner, 
Monocacy,  July  9,  '64;  dis.  June  20,  '65,  Wilmington,  Del. 
McCabe,  Daniel,  32;  Oct.  10,  '64,  Rochester;  Oct.  10,  1  year; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McCarthy,  Edward,  18;  Sept.  14,  '63,  Galen;  Sept.  22;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

McCarthy,  Timothy,  36;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Brutus;  Dec.  31;  no  M.  O. 
McCrady,  David  H.,  28;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Savannah;  Dec.  28;  no 

M.  O. 
McCune,  Peter,  23;  April  7,  '64,  2d  Dist.  N.  Y.;  April  7;  deserted 

May  18,  '64. 
McDougall,  David,  37;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Musician; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
McElvany,  John,  22;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Sept. 

26,  '63,  Fort  Simmons. 
Mclntosh,  Peter  L.,  29;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Albany;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 

McNeal,  Robert,  28;  Dec.  16,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  16;  wd.  Cold 
Harbor  June  1,  '64;  trans.  April  28,  '65,  170th  Co.,  2d  Bat., 
V.  R.  C. 
McWiggin,  Patrick,  27;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Apr. 

12,  '64;  Sergt,  Mar.  1,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Maher,  Michael,  26;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Albany;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 
6,  '65. 
30 


466  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Marcellus,  Carey,  44;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Butler;  Dec.  28;  no  M.  O. 

Marcellus,  Lewis,  26;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  prisoner, 
Monocacy,  July  9,  '64;  d.  Feb.  16,  '65,  Danville,  Va. 

Marshall,  David,  33;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Geneva;  Jan.  4,  '64;  trans. 
June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Marshall,  William  M.,  22;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  k.  April 
2,  '65,  Petersburg. 

Mastin,  Michael  P.,  34;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  11;  d.  July 
16,  '64,  hospital,  Baltimore,  from  wounds  received  at  Mo 
nocacy  July  9.  He  had  served  two  years  in  Co.  H,  23d  N. 
Y.  Infantry. 

Mattison,  David  C.,  26;  Sept.  12,  '64,  Springtown;  1  year;  M.  O., 
July  6,  '65. 

Mead,  Joseph  H.,  18;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Lyons;  1  year;  wd.  Cedar 
Creek  Oct.  19,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Mead,  Judson,  21;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 
12,  '64;  prisoner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Feb.  8,  '65,  Dan 
ville,  Va. 

Mead,  Sanford  S.,  23;  Aug.  18,  '63,  Syracuse;  Sept.  10;  wd. 
June  3,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  May  21,  '65,  hospital,  Roches 
ter,  N.  Y. 

Meeker,  Hiram,  28;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Huron;  Jan.  8,  '64;  dis.  July 
8,  '65,  hospital,  Baltimore. 

Merrill,  Edgar  J.,  18;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Mar.  1, 
'65,  hospital,  Albany. 

Merrill,  Edward  P.,  18;  July  27,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 
July  6,  '65. 

Merrill,  Wallace,  18;  Jan.  10,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  18;  k.  July  9, 
'64,  Monocacy,  Md. 

Merrill,  William  H.,  18;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Camillus,  1  year;  dis.  June 
5,  '65,  Elmira,  N.  Y. 

Mitchell,  Elias,  23;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  trans.  Dec. 
29,  '63,  V.  K.  C. 

Mitchell,  George  W.,  21;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Sennett;  Dec.  30;  no  M.  O. 

Mitchell,  William,  23;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Macedon;  Dec.  26;  wd.  Mo 
nocacy,  July  9,  '64;  dis.  June  14,  '65,  hospital,  Baltimore. 

Moffatt,  William,  36;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Artificer, 
April  19,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Moore,  George  C.,  18;  Sept.  17,  '64,  Wayne;  1  year;  wd.  April  6. 
?65,  Sailor's  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Morley,  Allen  T.,  23;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Mar. 
11,  '63,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 

Mullier,  George,  43;  Feb.  8,  '64,  2d  Dist.  N.  Y.;  Feb.  8;  d.  Sept. 
16,  '64,  hospital,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Murray,  Charles  A.,  19;  Aug.  17,  '63,  Galen;  Sept.  22;  trans. 
June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Murray,  Patrick  H.,  18;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  deserted 
Oct.  25,  '62. 

Nash,  Edward,  29;  July  27,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Sergt., 


COMPANY  A.  467 

June  25,  '63;  prisoner  June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  d.  Oct.  31, 

'64,  Andersonville. 
Neal,  Jonathan,  18;  Aug.  8,  '63,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Monocacy 

July  9,  '64;  dis.  May  15,  '65,  Frederick,  Md. 
Newberry,  Charles  H.,  24;  Jan.  14,  '64,  LeRoy;  Jan.  14;  dis. 

Sept.  29,  '65. 
Nichols,  Henry,  21;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Lansing;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Nichols,' Jesse  B.,  44;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Camillus;  1  year;  wd.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek;  d.  Nov.  8,  '64,  hospital,  Baltimore. 
Nichols,  Myron  B.,  26;  July  20,  '63,  Galen;  Aug.  5;  trans,  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
O'Brien,  Daniel,  28;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Onondaga;  Jan.  4;  wd.  June  1, 

'64,  Cold  Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
O'Connor,  Patrick,  43;  July  25,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  wd.  June 

1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
O'Niel,  Charles,  39;  Dec.  12,  '63,  Seneca  Falls;  Dec.  15;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Orterlipp,  Francis,  40;  Sept.  2,  '63,  Galen;  Sept.  22;  k.  June  3, 

'64,  Cold  Harbor. 
Owen,  Milton,  19;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Palmer,  Thomas  J.,  18;  Dec.  7,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  7;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Perry,  Charles  W.,  18;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  Corp.,  Jan. 

1,  '65;  Sergt,  April  17,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H. 

A.;M.  O.,  2d  Lieut. 
Pettengill,  John,  42;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Huron;  Jan.  5;  dis.  May  13,  '65, 

hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Pettit,  Martin,  19;  Aug.  3,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 

Phillips,  Frederick,  32;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Montezuma;  no  M.  O. 
Phillips,  John,  43;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  15, 

'65,  Washington. 
Phillips,  Virgil  J.,  18;  Aug.  24,  '63,  Wolcott;  Sept.  2;  wd.  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  Aug.  7,  '65,  hospital,  Kochester,  N.  Y. 
Pitcher,  Amos,  24;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Auburn;  1  year;  d.  April  21, 

'65,  Martinsburg,  West  Va. 
Porter,  Lawson,  26;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Wagoner, 

Nov.  1,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Kancier,  Lewis,  18;  Dec.  2,  '63,  Mentz;  Dec.  24;  no  M.  O. 
Rawson,  Abram  A.,  19;  Jan.  14,  '64,  Troy;  Jan.  14;  dis.  June 

26,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 

Kawson,  Charles,  18;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Butler;  Dec.  28;  prisoner,  Mo 
nocacy,  July  9,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Rawson,  Edgar  A.,  20;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Butler;  Dec.  28;  prisoner, 

Monocacy,  July  9,  '64;  dis.  Sept.  1,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester, 

N.  Y.    He  had  served  two  years  in  Co.  G,  3d  N.  Y.  L.  A. 
Rhinehart,  William  H.,  23;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  5, 1  year; 


468  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

wd.  Cedar  Creek  Oct.  19,  '64;  dis.  July  12,  '65,  hospital, 

Philadelphia.    He  had  served  in  19th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Rhodes,  Henry  J.,  27;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  Sergt;  pro 
moted  2d  Lieut.  Co.  G. 
Richardson,  Isaac  J.,  31;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Chenango;  Aug.  29,  1 

year;  k.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Riggs,  Henry,  18;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 

Robershaw,  William,  19;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Wellsport;  Dec.  17;  de 
serted  July  16,  '64. 
Roe,  Alfred  S.,  19;  Jan.  21,  '64,  Tully;  Jan.  21;  prisoner,  Mo- 

nocacy,  July  9,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Ryder,  Edwin  H.,  18;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Genoa;  Jan.  4,  '64;  wd.  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  from  wounds  Aug.  17,  '64,  Frederick, 

Md. 
Sampson,  Edward  F.,  20;  Aug.  25,  '64,  Venice;  Aug.  26,  1  year; 

wd.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  May  20,  '65,  Albany. 
Sanborn,  Orsernus,  26;  Dec.  8,  '63,  Sterling;  Dec.  22;  deserted 

May  9,  '64. 
Schemerhorn,  Stephen  S.,  29;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  5,  1 

year;  dis.  Aug.  30,  '65,  Albany. 
Scott,  Benjamin,  37;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Venice;  Dec.  31;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Scott,  Carini,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Huron;  Jan.  4;  wd.  June  1,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Searles,  Fidelus,  26;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Savannah;  Dec.  29;  wd.  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  June  10,  '65,  Frederick,  Md. 
Searles,  Lucien  A.,  38;  Sept.  15,  '64,  Jamaica;  Sept.  15;  d.  Feb. 

22,  '65,  in  the  field. 
Secor,  Charles,  19;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Albany;  Aug.  31,  1  year;  dis. 

June  23,  '65,  hospital,  Baltimore. 
Secor,  John  S.,  19;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  8, 1  year;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  June  27,  '65,  hospital,  New  York. 
Seeber,  Smith,  25;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  d.  Nov. 

3,  '64,  hospital,  Martinsburg,  West  Va. 
Shafer,  David,  42;  Mar.  28,  '63,  Victory;  May  6;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Shafer,  William,  36;  Feb.  18,  '64,  2d  Dist.  N.  Y.;  Feb.  18;  de 
serted  May  14,  '64. 

Shaft,  Milton,  30;  Aug.  5,  »62,Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Sheldon,  William  H.,  42;  Sept.  22,  '64,  Lockport;  1  year;  dis. 

June  15,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Sherman,  Charles  H.,  28;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Galen;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Sloan,  Edward  S.,  25;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Galen;  Jan.  2;  dis.  Aug.  6, 

'65,  Washington. 
Smith,  Amos,  26;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  wd.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy;  dis.  Mar.  31,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Smith,  James  E.  22;  July  25,  '63,  Galen;  Aug.  5;  prisoner,  Mo- 


COMPANY  A.  469 

nocacy,  July  9,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Had 

teen  in  the  regular  army. 
Smith,  Mortimer  P.,  20;  July  25,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Jan. 

24,  '64,  for  promotion  2d  Lieut.  Co.  E,  20th  U.  S.  Colored 

Troops. 
Smocker,  Frederick,  28;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Snow,  Samuel,  25;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  5;  dis.  June  30,  '65, 

Washington. 
Snyder,  Paul,  38;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  dis.  June  16,  '65,, 

Washington. 
Sours,  Jacob  C,,  28;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  k.  Sept.  19, 

'64,  Winchester,  Va. 
Sprague,  Alfred  J.,  19;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Mar. 

6,  '63,  Washington. 
Sprague,  Frank,  23;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  April  6, 

'64,  Fort  Baker. 
Sprague,  Lewis  B.,  22;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  d.  Jan.  22, 

'63,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Stafford,  Horatio  G.,  28;  July  13,  '63,  Palmyra;  Aug.  5;  Corp., 

April  12,  '64;  wd.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  July  6,  '65, 

Washington. 
Stafford,  William  A.,  20;  July  3,  '63,  Palmyra;   Aug.  5;    wd. 

Oct.  19,  '64;  dis.  July  12,  '65,  Elniira,  N.  Y. 
Stinard,  Andrew  L.,  25;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Dec.  30,  '62;  dis.  Mar.  30,  '64,  Fort  Baker. 
Streeter,  Melvin,  25;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Strickland,  George,  38;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  17;  wd.  Mo- 

nocacy,  July  9 ;  d.  July  11,  '64,  hospital,  Baltimore. 
Struble,  Samuel,  26;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  4;  no  record  after 

his  return  to  duty  from  Stone  Hospital  Sept.  1,  '64. 
Stubbs,  Wesley  K.,  27;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  April    25,  '63;    1st  Sergt.,  April    12,  '64;    d.  Dec. 

24,  '64,  from  wounds  received  Oct.  19  at  Cedar  Creek. 
Stubbs,  William  R.,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Swinder.  Henry,  22;  Aug.  27,  '64,  Angelica;  Sept.  6;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Taylor,  Charles  H.,  25;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Butler;  Jan.  4;  dis.  June  16, 

'65,  Washington. 
Taylor,  Judah  N.,  20;  Aug.  12,  '63,  Galen;  Aug.  18;  Corp.,  April 

12.  '64;  Sergt,  Sept.  1,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  Co.  I,  2d 

N.  Y.  H.  A. ;  M.  O.  as  1st  Sergt. ;  Vet.  Co.  A,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Thomas,  Philip,  38;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  dis. 

June  15,  '65,  Washington. 
Thompson,  William,  20;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Lansing;  Sept.  3,  1  year; 

dis.  June  9,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Tompkins,  Francis  M.,  26;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Lansing;  Sept.  3,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 


470  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Townsend,  David,  18;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Huron;  Jan.  2,  '64;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Tupper,  William  S..  44;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Montezuma;  Dec.  30;  no 

M.  O. 
Ullrich,  Charles,  33;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Sept. 

I,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Vanalstine,  Isaac,  41;  July  5,  '63,  Wolcott;  Aug.  5;  trans.  April 

21,  '64,  82  Co.,  2d  Bat.,  V.  R.  C.;  Vet.  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Vanderberg.  James,  23;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  19,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Vanderberg,  Martin,  28;  Oct.  5,  '64,  Nunda;  Oct.  6, 1  year;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Van  Horn,  John,  30;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Wagoner; 

dis.  Mar.  29,  '63,  Fort  Simmons. 
Van  Ostrand,  Charles,  21;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Marion;  wd.  June  1,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Van  Rensselaer,  John,  44;  Jan.  16,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  19;  dis. 

May  13,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Van  Tassel,  John,  34;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Lansing;  Sept.  3,  1  year;  dis. 

June  16,  '65,  Washington. 
Veeley,  Lewis,  19;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  3, 1  year;  dis.  June 

29,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Wagner,  Francis,  26;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  wd. 

Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  June  15,  '65,  hospital,  Phila 
delphia. 
Waldron,  Benjamin,  24;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  5,  1  year; 

dis.  Jan.  17,  '65,  York,  Pa. 
Walker,  James  W.,  28;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May  2, 

'64,  Fort  Baker. 
Walters,  George  L.,  19;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  3;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  trans.  Jan.  12,  '65,  59th  Co.,  2d  Bat.,  V.  E.  C. 
Watkins,  Carlton,  28;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  dis. 

June  22,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 

Weeks,  DeWitt  M.,  20;  Aug.  17,  '63,  Galen;  Aug.  17;  no  M.  O. 
Welch,  William  A.,  16;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Malone;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Wellington,  Benjamin,  28;  July  28,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  d. 

July  28,  '64,  hospital,  New  York  city. 
Wendover,  Henry  C.,  19;  Mar.  2,  '63,  Auburn;  Mar.  5;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,2dN.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wendover,  James,  18;  Aug.  6,  '63,  Wolcott;  Aug.  9;  wd.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  dis.  May  31,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 
Wendover,  William  C.,  37;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  5;  wd. 

Cold  Harbor;  trans.  Mar.  17.  '65,  Co.  A,  22d  V.  R,  C. 
Wheeler,  H.  Hill,  Jr.,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Butler;  Jan.  4;  Corp.,  Jan. 

II,  '65;  promoted  2d  Lieut.  Co.  E. 

Whitbeck,  George  H.,  19;  enlisted  in  Co.  B,  Aug.  19,  '63,  Galen; 
trans.  Mar.  19,  '64,  to  Co.  A;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y. 
H.  A. 


COMPANY  B.  471 

Whitbeck,  Jolm  W.,  18;  Sept.  12,  '63,  Galen;  Sept.  22;  dis.  May 

13,  '65,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 
Whiting,  Foster,  22;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Huron;  Jan.  5;  d.  Sept.  22,  '64, 

from  wounds  received  Sept.  19  at  Winchester,  Va. 
Whiting,  John  F.,  27;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  promoted 

Corp.,  April  12,  '64;  wd.  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65; 

d.  at  Syracuse  before  regiment  left  for  home. 
Whitlock,  Newton  V.,  18;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Wilson,' Edward  H.,  38;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Butler;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wilson,  Israel  S.,  18;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  d.  July  21, 

'64,  hospital,  New  York  city. 
Wood,  Ira,  45;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  d.  July  28,  '64, 

hospital,  New  York  city. 
Worden,  William,  22;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  16;  no  M.  O. 

COMPANY  B. 

This  company  came  from  the  western  part  of  Wayne.  July 
31st  the  Kev.  Truman  Gregory  of  Ontario  began  raising  men 
for  a  company  and  enrolled  A.  J.  Atwood,  Anthony  Coonian,  J. 

C.  Hoxie,  Jesse  Gage  and  C.  P.  Patterson.    August  4th  he  added 
John  Watson  and  John  Ruffle.     The  first  public  meeting  was 
in    the    Baptist    Church,    Ontario    Centre,  August  8th,  when 
twenty-one  more  were  enrolled.    This  meeting  was  attended  by 

D.  F.  Strickland  of  Walworth  and  Chauncey  Fish  of  William 
son,  and  an  arrangement  was  made  whereby  Walworth  was  to 
furnish  twenty  men  for  the  company  and  have  the  1st  lieuten 
ancy;  Williamson,  fifteen,  and  to  have  the  2d  lieutenancy.    By 
the  12th  there  were  names  enough  added  to  warrant  going  to 
Auburn,  where  on  the  14th  of  August  ninety-six  men  were  suc 
cessfully  passed.    Of  this  number,  Ontario  had  sixty-one,  includ 
ing  Rice  of  Sodus  and  Reeves  of  Marion ;  Walworth  had  twenty- 
one  and  Williamson  fourteen.    August  15  Strickland  added  one 
and  on  the  31st  five,  making  his  aggregate  twenty-eight,  and 
August  20  Gregory  took  one  more,  making  for  the  company  a 
total  of  104. 

The  agreement  as  to  officers  was  not  exactly  complied  with, 
but  the  whirligig  of  time  made  that  all  right,  and  Williamson 
had  her  innings. 

CAPTAINS. 

Truman  Gregory,  41;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  date  of  rank, 

Aug.  14;  promoted  Major  May  13,  '64,  not  mustered;  wd. 

June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  d.  of  wounds  June  22,  '64,  at  his 

home. 
Nelson  F.  Strickland,  promoted  from  1st  Lieut.  Feb.  16,  '64; 

dis.  Nov.  28,  '64. 


472  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Ghauncey  Fish,  from  1st  Lieut.  Nov.  28,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65; 
Brevet  Major  U.  S.  Vols. 

FIRST  LIEUTENANTS. 

Nelson  F.  Strickland,  25;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  date 

of  rank,  Aug.  14;  promoted  Captain. 
William  E.  Greenwood,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Jan.  29,  '64;  wd.  June 

1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  Sept.  12,  '64. 
Chauncey  Fish,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Sept.  12,  '64;  wd.  Sept.  19,  '64, 

Winchester,  and  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  promoted  Capt. 
Josiah  T.  Crittenden,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Feb.  18,  '65;  dis.  May  15, 

'65. 

SECOND   LIEUTENANTS. 

William  E.  Greenwood,  32;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  date 

of  rank,  Aug.  14;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 

Chauncey  Fish,  from  1st  Sergt.,  Feb.  6,  '64;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Charles  W.  Hough,  from  Sergt.  Major;  date  of  rank,  Feb.  15, 

'64;  promoted  1st  Lieut.,  Co.  F. 
Keuben  Burton,  trans,  from  Co.  I,  May  30,  '64;  prisoner,  Mo- 

nocacy,  July  9,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  M. 

O.  as  1st  Lieut. 
Josiah  T.  Crittenden,  from  Co.  M,  Nov.  28,  '64;  promoted  1st 

Lieut. 
Arthur  W.  Marshall,  from  Co.  G,  Dec.  30,  '64;  served  for  the 

most  part  in  the  67th  Penn.;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Francis  J.  Hoag,  from  1st  Sergt.,  Feb.  18,  '65;  dis.  June  14,  '65. 

NON-COMMISSIONED  OFFICERS  AND  PRIVATES. 

Allen,  Alonzo  H.,  24;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  Nov.  17,  '63;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Allen,  Calvin  H.,  19;  Sept.  19,  Kochester;  Sept.  19,  1  year;  M. 

O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Andrew,  Alvin,  30;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  wd.  Sept.  19, 

'64,  Winchester;  d.  of  wounds  Sept.  21,  '64. 
Arney,  Samuel,  25;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Atwood,  Alvah  J.,  44;  July  31,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  Musician; 

trans.  June  22,  '64,  unassigned  detachment,  V.  K.  C. 
Babbitt,  Francis,  23;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Williamson;  Sept.  9;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Beard,  George  A.,  23;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Bettys,  Lafayette  L.,  18;  Dec.  12,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Birdsall,  William,  26;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Bishop,  Edwin  A.,  28;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  Sergt.,  no 

date;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 


COMPANY   B.  473 

Blythe,  Jabez  A.,  23;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Macedon;  Dec.  29;  Corp.,  Feb. 

19,  '64;  wd.  Sept.  19,  '64,  Winchester;  dis.  June  15,  '65, 
-    hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Bostwick.  J.  Benson,  22;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Wai  worth;  Sept.  9,  Corp.; 

dis.  Nov.  20,  '63,  for  promotion  1st  Lieut.,  10th  U.  S.  C.  T. 
Bradley,  Augustus  B.,  20;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Lyons;  1  year;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  d.  of  wounds  Nov.  1,  '64,  hospital, 
Philadelphia. 

Bradley,  Herman  J.,  23;  Sept.  15,  '64,  Moravia;  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65;  Vet.  Co.  I,  17th  N.  Y.  Infantry. 
Brock,  Charles  J.,  30;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  Corp.,  Aug. 

11,  '63;  Sergt,  April  11,  '64;  wd.  June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor; 
dis.  May  31,  '65,  hospital,  Kochester,  N.  Y. 

Bronson,  Oscar  H.,  23;  Dec.  7,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Brown,  Jacob  B.,  31;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  d.  Dec.  19. 

'64,  at  home. 
Brown,  Kensselaer,  29;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  Corp., 

Mar.  10,  '65;  wd.  Oct.  19,  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Buck,  James  W.,  26;  Dec.  5,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Calhoun,  Daniel  D.,  13;  April  13,  '63,  Galen;  dis.  May  12,  '64, 

Fort  Richardson,  Va. 
Carey,  Orin,  18;  April  25,  '63,  Ontario;  May  8;  prisoner,  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Carr,  Micajah,  44;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  25;  dis.  March 

28,  '64,  Fort  Baker. 

Case,  Edwin,  27;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  wd.  Sept.  19, 
'64,  Winchester;  dis.  July  6,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Chapman,  Grosvenor  E.,  19;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Williamson;  Sept.  9; 
M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Chapman,  Ralph  D.,  29;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  ac 
cidentally  injured  in  camp;  dis.  Oct.  22,  '64. 

Chapman, Washington,  42;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  d.  July 

12,  '64,  on  U.  S.  hospital  ship,  Atlantic. 

Cheney,  Jerome  B.,  21;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Rochester;  Dec.  26;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Christman,  George  H.,  35;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Lansing;  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6, '65.          ) 
Church.  George  M.,  18;  Dec.  3,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  12;  d.  March 

20,  '64,  Fort  Mansfield. 

Clark,  James  E.,  24;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  M.  O.,  July 

9,  '65. 
Clark,  Lorenzo  D.,  38;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Walworth;  dis.  Jan.  31,  '64, 

Fort  Simmons;  rejected  recruit. 
Clum,  Edward  F.,  18;  Dec.  7,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Conger,  Daniel,  44;  Sept.  2,  '64,  WTalworth;  1  year;  trans.  April 

29,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 


474  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Cooman,  Anthony,  30;  July  31,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  wd.  July 

9,  '64,  Monocracy;  M.  6.,  July  6,  '65. 
Copping,  Thomas  J.,  18;  Dec.  20,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  Corp., 

June  1,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cordon,  Isaac,  30;  enlisted  in  Co.  I,  Dec.  26,  '63,  Venice;  Jan.  6, 

'64;  trans.  May  17,  '64,  to  Co.  B;  wd.  June  1,  '64,  Cold  Har 
bor;  dis.  April  15,  '65,  hospital,  Gerinantown,  Pa. 
Davis,  Allen  B.,  30;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Dempsey,  Milton,  18;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M. 

O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Denney,  Loren,  27;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Williamson;  Sept.  9;  Corp., 

June  22,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Dietrick,  Edwin,  35;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Lansing;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  M. 

O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Diver,  Frank  H.,  19;  trans.  Nov.  11,  '64,  to  Co.  B  from  Co.  I,  76th 

N.  Y.,  in  which  he  had  enlisted,  July  24,  '63;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Diver,  Jerome  B.,  25;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 

Dulan,  John,  18;  Aug.  25,  '64,  Oakfield;  wd.  April  2,  '65,  Peters 
burg;  dis.  June  14,  '65,  Washington. 
Dunlap,  John  H.,  32;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  dis.  July 

6,  '65,  Fort  Stevens. 
D wight,  Lewis,  34;  April  1,  '64,  Trenton;  April  1;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Dwyer,  James,  39;  Jan.  5,  '64,  in  Co.  I,  Auburn;  Jan.  5;  trans. 

to  Co.  B  May  17,  '64;  trans.  April  13,  '65,  Co.  G,  20th  V.R.C. 
Ellsworth, George,  21;  Sept.  23,  '64,  Tarrytown;  Sept.  23, 1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Elmer,  Francis  M.,  20;  Aug.  7,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Elmer,  Keuben,  44;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  dis.  April 

24,  '63,  Fort  Simmons. 
Fenner,  Nelson  A.,  24;  Dec.  3,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Fish,  Chauncey,  39;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Williamson;  Sept.  9;  1st  Sergt.; 

promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Fish,  John  J.,  18;  Mar.  30,  '64,  Williamson;  Mar.  30;  dis.  June 

14,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Fish,  Myron  M.,  20;  Mar.  26,  '64,  Williamson;  Mar.  30;  k.  Sept. 

19,  '64,  Winchester. 
Fitts,  Nelson  A.,  33;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  captured  at 

Monocacy  and  escaped,  July  18;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Fleischer,  Henry,  36;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Rochester;  Dec.  26;  deserted 

Aug.  20,  '64. 
Foote,  Harvey  M.,  25;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9,  Sergt;  dis. 

Nov.  20,  '63,  for  promotion  1st  Lieut.,  Co.  C,  10th  U.  S.  C.  T. 
Franklin,  Benjamin,  19;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  wd.  Cold 


COMPANY  B.  475 

Harbor;  became  bugler;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65.    Had  served  in 

Co.  D,  13th  N.  Y.  Infantry. 
Franklin,  Joshua,  26;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9,  Corp.;  dis. 

April  17,  '63;  re-enlisted  Dec.  14,  '63,  Ontario;  dis.  Jan.  31, 

'64,  Fort  Simmons;  rejected  recruit. 
Freer,  John,  20;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Fries,  Edmund,  22;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Williamson;  Sept.  9;  Corp., 

Jan.  21,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Fries,  Gilbert,  21;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Williamson;  Sept.  9;  k.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Frost,  Lewis  B.,  21;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Penfield;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gage,  Jesse,  3d,  43;  July  31,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  dis.  Aug.  12, 

'65,  Washington. 
Gamble,  David  P.,  16;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Palmyra;  Dec.  26;  dis.  June 

26,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Gardiner,  Lewis  G.,  24;  Dec.  5,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  wd.  Sept. 

19,  '64,  Winchester;  dis.  June  19,  '65,  Frederick,  Md. 
Gilbert,  George  W.,  21;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  Corp., 

Oct.  11,  '63;  wd.  June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  Feb.  16,  '65. 
Gilno,  Ezra,  29;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  wd.  June  1,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Golden,  Thomas,  36;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Greenman,  Matthew  C.,  18;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Rochester;  Dec.  16;  d. 

Nov.  5,  '64,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Greenman,  Wresley  A.,  20;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Rochester;  Dec.  14;  dis. 

May  13,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Greenman,  William  H.,  19;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Rochester;  Dec.  14; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gregory,  Lyman,  18;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9,  Corp.;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Grey,   Henry  G.,  24;  Dec.  30,  '64,  Troy;  Dec.  31;  deserted  April 

23,  '65,  on  march  to  Danville. 
Grippen,  David  G.,  28;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  dis.,  as 

bugler,  Mar.  28,  '64,  Fort  Baker. 
Hall,  John,  25;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  wd.  Sept.  19, 

'64,  Winchester;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Harkness,  Edson  J.,  19;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9,  Corp.; 

dis.  Sept.  19,  '63,  for  promotion  Captain,  6th  U.  S.  C.  T.; 

M.  O.,  Brevet  Major. 
Hazzard,  William  F.,  18;  Nov.  7,  '63,  Rochester;  Nov.  12;  trans. 

May  4,  '65,  69th  Co.,  2d  Bat.,  V.  R.  C. 
Hibbard,  Calvin  C.,  21;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  20;  d.  June 

5,  '64,  Yorktown,  Va.,  of  wounds  received  June  1  at  Cold 

Harbor. 
Hiller,  Jacob,  36;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  wd.  June  3,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 


476  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Hoag,  Francis  J.,  21;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  Corp., 

Nov.  17,  '63;  Sergt.,  Jan.  19,  '64;  1st  Sergt,  Jan.  8,  '65; 

promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Hoag,  Hiram  C.,  43;  Dec.  7,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Hoag,  J.  Murray,  19;  Aug.  11,  '62,WaIworth;  Sept.  9;  Corp.,  May 
1     4,  '63;  dis.  Aug.  29,  '63,  for  promotion  2d  Lieut.  4th  U.  S. 

Colored  Troops;    lost    an  arm  in  the  service. 
Hodges,  William  H.,  31;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  de 
serted  Feb.  23,  '65. 
Holdridge,   Daniel    H.,   21;   Dec.   21,    '63,    Penfield;   Dec.    26; 

drowned,  June  17,  '65,  while  bathing  in  Georgetown  canal, 

near  Fort  Simmons. 
Holdridge,  William,  18;  Aug.  26,  '64,  Middleburg;  wd.  Mar.  25, 

'65;  dis.  June  15,  '65. 
Holtom,  Frank  B.,  18;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  wd.  June 

1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor,  and  Sept.  19,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Hopkins,  Cassius  C.,  19;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  Corp., 

April  1,  '64;  trans.  May  6,  '64,  U.  S.  Navy. 
Howell,  Vernon  R.,  19;  Jan.  15,  '64,  Marion;  Jan.  20;  dis.  June 

22,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Howser,  Charles  L.,  19;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Dayton;  1  year;  d.  Nov.  4, 

'64,  hospital,  Baltimore,  of  wounds  received  at  Cedar  Creek. 
Hoxie,  John  C.,  19;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  Wagoner; 

Corp.,  April  1,  '64;  trans.  Mar.  15,  '65,  Signal  Corps. 
Jagger,  Daniel  E.,  18;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Palmyra;  Dec.  26;  d.  June  15, 

'64,  hospital,  David's  Island,  N.  Y.,  from  wounds  received 

June  8,  Cold  Harbor. 
Jones,  Stephen,  21;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept  9;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
King,  John  H.,  19;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  Corp.  and 

Sergt.,  no  dates;  wd.  June  1,  Cold  Harbor;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Ladd,  Francis,  40;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  d.  June  26,  '64, 

hospital,  City  Point,  Va. 

Lavarne,  Daniel,  18;  Dec.  21,  '64;  1  year;  wd.  April  2,  '65,  Peters 
burg;  dis.  July  14,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Leighton,  Lewis  B.,  24;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Syracuse;  Sept.  8,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Lent,  Charles  b.,  32;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept  9,  Sergt.; 

promoted  2d  Lieut.,  Co.  H. 
Lewis,  Dwight,  vide  Dwiglit,  Lewis. 
Loomis,  Francis  M.,  21;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  dis. 

June  7,  '65,  Baltimore. 
Loveless,  Hamilton,  18;  Mar.  23,  '63,  Rose;  Mar.  26;  k.  June  1, 

'64,  Cold  Harbor. 
McCarthy,  Daniel,  38;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  wd.  June 

1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  Nov.  19,  '64,  hospital,  Washington. 
McCartin,  Laughlin,  44;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  5;  in  Co.  I; 


COMPANY   B.  477 

trans.  Co.  B  May  17,  '64;  prisoner  June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor; 

d.  Sept.  2,  '64,  Andersonville. 
McClure,  James,  22;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  wd. 

Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  July  27,  '65,  Syracuse. 
McConnell,  Irving,  18;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  in  Co.  G; 

trans.  Co.  B  May  17,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McCumber,  Williani  H.,  21;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Rochester;  Dec.  26; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Mack,  Daniel,  18;  Jan.  21,  '64,  Lansing;  Jan.  21;  in  Co.  I;  trans. 

Co.  B  May  17,  '64;  prisoner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Mack,  David  S.,  21;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Williamson;  Sept.  9,  Sergt.; 

dis.  Oct.  4,  '63,  for  promotion  1st  Lieut.,  7th  U.  S.  C.  T. 
Mack,  Samuel  R,,  26;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
McKowen,  Edwin,  25;  Sept.  19,  '64,  Sodus;  Sept.  19,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Manchester,  Charles  F.,  25;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  dis. 

April  8,  '64,  Fort  Baker. 
Mason,  James  O.,  23;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Merrick,  Joseph  S.,  20;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  dis.  June 

11,  '63,  hospital,  Rochester. 
Metzgar,  Dana,  20;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Groton;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Miller,  Charles  A.,  21;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  d.  Aug. 

2,  '64,  hospital,  Washington. 
Miller,  Williani  H.,  18;  Dec.  7,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  dis.  Jan. 

25,  '65,  Washington. 
Munson,  Charles  H.,  29;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Marion;  Dec.  20;  in  Co.  G; 

trans.  Co.  B  May  17,  '64;  k.  April  2,  '65,  Petersburg. 
Myers,  Frederick,  18;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Myers,  Samuel,  41;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  k.  Sept.  19, 

'64,  Winchester. 
Nash,  Josiah  E.,  23;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  d.  Aug.  7, 

'64,  hospital,  Annapolis,  of  wounds  received  July  9  at  Mo 
nocacy. 

Negus,  John,  38;  Feb.  24,  '64,  Rochester;  Feb.  25;  prisoner,  Mo 
nocacy,  July  9,  '64;  dis.  June  29,  '65,  Rochester. 
Niles,  Edwin  D.,  18;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  wd.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Niles,  Egbert,  19;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
O'Flynn,  Thomas  D.,  22;  Dec.  7,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  wd. 

Sept.  19,  '64,  Winchester;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
O'Flynn,  William  H.,  18;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Page,  Ebenezer.  42:  Aug.  2,  Ontario;  Sept.  9,  Corp.;  M.  O.,  Julv 

6,  '65. 


478  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Painter,  George,  26;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  disabled  in 

line  of  march ;  dis.  May  17,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Palan,  Robert  D.,  25;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Penfield;  Dec.  26;  wd.  June 

8,  '64,  Cold   Harbor;    dis.    Jan.   20,  '66,   hospital,  David's 

Island,  N.  Y. 
Parker,  James  E.,  22;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  dis.  July 

23,  '64,  for  promotion  1st  Lieut.,  12th  U.  S.  C.  T. 
Parkhill,  Robert  F.,  26;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Williamson;  Sept.  9;  d. 

Nov.  12,  '64,  Rochester,  from  wounds  received  Oct.  19  Cedar 

Creek.    Had  served  in  17th  N.  Y.  Infantry. 
Patterson,  Charles  P.,  25;  July  31,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  pro 
moted  2d  Lieut.,  Co.  F. 
Patterson,  James  N.,  25;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  wd. 

June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  Jan.  28,  '65,  hospital,  Phila 
delphia. 
Payne,  Alexander,  37;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  d.  Sept. 

20,  '64,  from  wounds  received  the  day  before  at  Winchester. 
Peacock,  Harrison  F.,  26;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Macedon;  Dec.  29;  Corp., 

Feb.  23,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  M.  O.  as 

sergeant. 
Peacock,  Oscar  F.,  21;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  dis.  May 

15,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Pease,  Charles  W.,  25;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  dis.  Nov. 

20,  '63,  for  promotion  2d  Lieut.,  10th  U.  S.  Colored  Troops. 
Perrin,  Edwin  B.,  18;  Dec.  7,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  26;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Pierce,  Samuel,  27;  May  19,  '63,  Palmyra;  June  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Pierson,  John,  30;  Aug.  31,  Walworth;  Aug.  31;  Corp.,  July  13, 

'63;  d.  June  20,  '64,  hospital,  Philadelphia,  from  wounds 

received  June  1  at  Cold  Harbor. 
Potter,  Elias,  31;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  promoted 

artificer;  wd.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Pratt,  Almon  J.,  26;  July  31,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9,  Sergt.;  dis. 

Nov.  20,  '63,  for  promotion  1st  Lieut.,  10th  U.  S.  C.  T. 
Prentiss,  James  D.,  19;  Dec.  20,  '63,  Williamson;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Prey,  David  H.,  42;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Hannibal,  in  Co.  G,  thence  to 

B  May  17,  '64;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Had  served  in  Co.  G,  5th  Wisconsin  Infantry. 
Pryor,  John,  18;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Palmyra;  Dec.  29;  dis.  June  20, 

'65,  Washington. 
Raynor,  Andrew  J.,  24;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  dis.  Dec. 

11,  '63,  for  promotion  2d  Lieut.,  19th  U.  S.  Colored  Troops. 
Reed,  John  L.,  27;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  Corp.,  no  date; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Reed,  Nathan  R.,  22;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  Corp., 

Nov.  18,  '62;  Sergt.,  Nov.  17,  '63;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Reeves,  Stephen,  37;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Marion;  Sept.  9;  promoted  ar 
tificer;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 


COMPANY  B.  479 

Rice,  John  F.,  31;  May  19,  '63,  Palmyra;  June  4;  k.  Sept.  19,  '64, 

Winchester. 
Eice,  Lewis  B.,  28;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Sodus;  Sept.  9;  dis.  July  8,  '63, 

for  promotion  2d  Lieut.,  Co.  K,  1st  U.  S.  Colored  Troops. 
Richmond,  George  H.,  20;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  dis. 

July  8,  '65,  Harper's  Ferry. 
Rifenburg,  Walter  L.,  21;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  wd. 

June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor,  and  Oct.  19,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  as 

Corp.,  July  17,  '65,  Elmira. 
Risley,  Charles  M.,  21;  Feb.  25,  '64,  Rochester;  Feb.  25;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Rogers,  Eugene  O.,  21;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  Corp., 

Nov.  17,  '63;  dis.  as  Sergt.  June  26,  '65. 
Rogers,  William,  41;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  2, 1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Rouch,  Max,  37;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  trans.  June  24, 

'65,  Co.  A,  llth  Regt,  V.  R.  C. 
Roys,  Gains  M.,  27;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Williamson;  Sept.  9;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Ruffle,  John,  44;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  d.  July  13,  '63, 

Fort  Mansfield. 
Russell,  Elon,  32;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  dis.  June  23, 

'65,  Washington. 
Sage,  James,  39;  Dec.  3,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  d.  Oct.  20,  '64,  of 

wounds  received  the  day  before  at  Cedar  Creek. 
Sage,  Joseph,  30;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  wd.  Sept.  19, 

'64,  Winchester;  dis.  April  28,  '65,  Rochester. 
Sanders,  Eugene,  23;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Williamson;  Sept.  9;  Corp., 

June  20,  '64;  Sergt,  Jan.  21,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Sharp,  Emmet  W.,  22;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Shipman,  John,  18;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Groton;  1  year;  dis.  June  21, 

'65,  Washington. 
Sipperly,  Philip  E.,  44;  Dec.  9,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  29;  wd.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Smith,  Albert  L.,  21;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  dis.  Aug. 

1,  '65,  Washington. 
Smith,  Edwin  B.,  20;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Lyons;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Smith,  Henry,  21;  Sept.  9,  '64,  Sodus;  Sept.  9, 1  year;  wd.  March 

25,  '65,  Petersburg;  dis.  July  6,  '65,  Washington. 
Smith,  Jarvis  L.,  29;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Smith,  Morris  M.,  21;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  Corp.,  Mar. 

10,  '65  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Smith,  Walter  S.,  38;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  Musician; 

dis.  June  20,  '65,  Washington. 
Soper,  John  H.,  18;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Marion;  Dec.  20  in  Co.  G.  thence 

trans.  B,  May  17,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


480  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Sova,  Alfred  N.,  18;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Wai  worth;  Dec.  29;  dis.  June 

16,  '65,  Washington. 
Speller,  James  W.,  24;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  Aug.  26; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Stanford,  Daniel  J.,  25;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  Corp., 

June  13,  '63;  Sergt,  Jan.  19,  '64;  wd.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar 

Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Sterling,  Wallace  M.,  23;  July  1,  '63,  Fort  Mansfield;  July  2; 

dis.  Aug.  21,  '63,  for  promotion  1st  Lieut.,  1st  U.  S.  Colored 

Troops.    Had  served  in  Co.  D,  28th  N.  Y.  Infantry. 
Strickland,  Thomas  A.,  20;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9; 

M.  O.,  July  6, '65. 
Stumpf,  William,  21;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  d.  June 

4,  '64,  Sixth  Corps  hospital,  from  wounds  received  June  1 

at  Cold  Harbor. 
Taylor,  Sylvester  D.,  19;  Feb.  25,  '64,  Rochester;  Feb.  25;  trans. 

as  musician  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Terwilliger,  Albert  E.,  18;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  Corp., 

Aug.  1,  '64;  wd.  Sept.  19,  '64,  Winchester;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Thatcher,  James  H.,  21;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Corp.,  Feb.  12,  '64; 

Sergt.,  Jan.  21,  '65;  1st  Sergt.,  Mar.  10,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6, '65. 
Thomas,  Charles,  18;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  k.  Sept. 

19,  '64,  Winchester. 
Travis,  Edwin  L.,  21;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Tucker,  William  H.,  21;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Groton;  Aug.  31;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  C,  76th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Vandewarker,  Abial,  18;  Dec.  3,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Vandewarker,  Samuel,  21;  May  3,  '63,  Palmyra;  June  4;  wd. 

Sept.  19,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wall,  Alonzo  H.,  21;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Warland,  George  L.,  18;  Dec.  22,  '63;  Rochester;  Dec.  22;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Warland,  Henry  C.,  21;  July  1,  '63,  Fort  Mansfield;  July  2; 

Corp.,  July'l,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Warren,  Charles,  20;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  dis.  July  5. 

'65,  Washington. 
Warren,  Edwin,  18;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Warren,  Jerome,  20;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Warren,  Robert,  37;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  dis.  June  12, 

'65,  hospital,  Rochester. 
Watson,  John  W.,  25;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
W^estbrook,  Manley,  19;  Sept.  14,  '64,  Sodus;  1  year;  d.  Dec.  18, 

'64,  in  field  hospital,  Winchester,  from  wounds  received 

Oct.  19  at  Cedar  Creek. 


COMPANY    G.  481 

Whitcomb,  Charles  D.,  35;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Ontario;  dis.  Jan.  15, 

'64,  Fort  Simmons. 
White,  Artemus  T.,  21;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  dis. 

April  3,  '63,  Fort  Simmons. 
White,  John  J.,  24;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  Corp., 

Aug.  1,  '64;  dis.  June  16,  '65,  hospital,  Baltimore. 
Whitman,  Henry,  29;  Dec.  7,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

Oct.  10,  '64,  Co.  B,  10th  Regt,  V.  R.  C. 
Whitmer,  John,  21;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Willis,  Charles,  18;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Geneva;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 

Wilson,  John,  18;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Woodard,  Orlando,  18;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Woodhams,  Henry,  28;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Woodruff,  Edgar  W.,  27;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9,  Corp.; 

dis.  Feb.  4,  '64,  Fort  Simmons. 
Wooster,  Milton,  18;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Ontario;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wooster,  Seymour  W.,  25;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  d.  Sept. 

22,  '64,  in  field  hospital,  Winchester,  from  wounds  received 

the  19th. 
Wooster,  William  E.,  21;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ontario;  Sept.  9;  k.  June 

3,  '64,  Cold  Harbor. 
Wyman,  Abel  R.,  26;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Walworth;  Sept.  9;  d.  July 

10,  '64,  hospital,  Washington,  from  wounds  received  June 

22  at  Petersburg. 
Wyman,  William  M.,  33;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Walworth;  Dec.  27;  d. 

March  25,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 


COMPANY  C. 

This  was  a  Cayuga  county  company  exclusively.  Some  of  the 
names  of  towns  in  our  section  of  the  state  are  very  peculiar, 
and  the  stranger  might  smile  at  the  thought  of  Cato,  Conquest 
and  Victory  supplying  the  soldiers  who  were  mustered  in  on 
that  8th  of  September,  1862.  These  men  were  reared  in  town 
ships  suggestive  of  warfare,  and  of  triumph,  too.  Cato,  whether 
the  older  or  the  younger,  was  a  warrior,  and  his  name  was  given 
to  this  particular  portion  of  the  state  because  the  township  was 
a  part  of  the  military  purchase,  as  were  Conquest  and  Victory 
also.  Men  from  such  starting  places  could  do  no  less  than  win. 
The  credit  of  raising  the  company  belonged  largely  to  Captain 
Alden  and  Lieutenants  Follett  and  Burke. 

If  the  roster,  as  published  by  the  state  in  1868  may  be  be 
lieved,  the  first  name  enrolled  for  the  company  was  that  of 
31 


482  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Kobert  H.  Haver  of  Conquest  July  21.  Then  came,  on  the  23d, 
from  the  town  of  Cato,  O.  G.  Burke,  David  Edminster,  Squire 
Fuller,  Chester  Hooker,  W.  H.  Lockwood  and  J.  J.  Putnam. 
The  list  was  full  in  August. 

CAPTAINS. 

Loyal  W.  Alden,  32;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  date  of  rank, 

Aug.  14;  resigned  Feb.  10,  '63. 

Harvey  W.  Follett,  from  1st  Lieut.,  Feb.  10,  '63;  dis.  Oct.  8,  '64. 
Marshall  B.  Burke,  from  1st  Lieut.,  Sept.  12,  '64;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 

FIRST   LIEUTENANTS. 

Harvey  W.  Follett,  34;  Aug.  27,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  date  of 

rank,  Aug.  14;  promoted  Captain. 
Marshall  B.  Burke,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Feb.  10,  '63;  wd.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy;  promoted  Captain. 

Asahel  M.  Abbey,  from  Co.  M,  March  17,  '64;  dis.  Sept.  28,  '64. 
John  B.  Baker,  from  private,  Nov.  3,  '64;  dis.  Jan.  31,  '65. 
William  W.  Sinclair,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Co.  L,  Oct.  9,  '64;  rank  from 

Sept.  12;  trans,  back  to  L  March  15,  '65. 

Charles  Cowell,  from  1st  Sergt,  Feb.  17,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
James  D.  Knapp,  from  Co.  H,  Feb.  17,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

SECOND   LIEUTENANTS. 

Marshall  B.  Burke,  23;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  date  of 

rank,  Aug.  14;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Lyman  C.  Comstock,  from  field  and  staff,  Feb.  10,  '63;  promoted 

1st  Lieut.  Co.  I. 
James  W.  Tifft,  from  1st  Sergt.,  Mar.  10,  '64;  wd.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy;  dis.  Nov.  28,  '64. 
George  E.  Chapel,  27;  May  11,  '64,  Butler;  date  of  rank,  March 

17;  dis.  Dec.  5,  '64. 

John  M.  Allen,  from  private,  March  24,  '64;  dis.  Feb.  28,  '65. 
Michael  McNulty,  from  private,  Sept.  12,  '64;  dis.  Feb.  28,  '65. 
Gilbert  Conklin,  from  Co.  G,  Nov.  28,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
William  H.  Mclntyre,  from  Co.  H,  Feb.  3,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6, 

'65.    Had  served  two  years  in  Co.  B,  27th  N.  Y.  Infantry, 
Cyrus  Acker,  from  Sergt.,  Nov.  28,  '64;  not  mustered. 

NON-COMMISSIONED  OFFICERS  AND  PRIVATES. 

Abrams,  Edwin  H.,  18;  Sept.  1,  Auburn;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Acker,  Cyrus,  27;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  9,  Sergt.;  promoted 

2d  Lieut;  wd.  June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  April  3,  '65, 

hospital,  Kochester. 
Allen,  Andrew  J.,  45;  Jan.  7,  '64,  Onondaga;  Jan.  7;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Danville  Sept.  28,  '64. 


COMPANY  C. 

1st  Lieut.  J.  D.  Knapp.        Stephen  Reeves  (B).        1st  Lieut.  H.  W.  Pollett. 

Capt.  Loyal  W.  Alden. 
2nd  Lieut.  M.  McNulty.        Lewis  B.  Rice  (B).        Sergt.  Cyrus  Acker. 


COMPANY    C.  483 

Allen,  John  M.,  27;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Ira;  Jan.  5;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Arnevine,  William,  36;  Sept.  6,  '64,  New  York;  Sept.  6,  1  year; 

d.  Nov.  2,  '64,  in  the  field. 
Baker,  John  B.,  44;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  22;  promoted 

1st  Lieut. 
Baldwin,  Jonathan,  22;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  d.  accidental 

poisoning  Jan.  26,  '63,  Fort  Gaines,  D.  C. 
Baldwin,  Lyman,  20;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  d.  Jan.  10,  '63, 

hospital,  Fort  Gaines. 

Ball,  John  C.,  19;  July  29,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Barnard,  Riverous  E.,  26;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Hannibal;  Jan.  2;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Nov.  19,  '64,  Danville. 
Bartles,  Henry,  32;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Fayette;  Dec.  29;  prisoner  Sept. 

19,  '64,  Winchester;  dis.  June  24,  '65. 
Bass,  Henry,  32;  Aug.  31,  Conquest;  Aug.  31;  d.  Nov.  10,  '64, 

hospital,  Baltimore. 
Bates,  Milton,  22;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Elbridge;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  5,  '65. 
Bates,  Oliver,  21;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Waterloo;  Dec.  18;  Corp.,  June 

13,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  M.  O.  as  Sergt. 
Beal,  Seth,  Jr.,  36;  Sept.  4,  '64,  Manchester;  Sept.  13,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Bench,  George,  23;  July  28,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 

6,  '64;  k.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Benton,  William,  31;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  20,  1  year;  wd. 

Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  not  heard  from  after  going  to  hos 
pital. 
Bessy,  Nelson  H.,  30;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Conquest;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

wd.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  May  15,  '65. 
Betts,  Robert  D.,  31;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  6,  '64;  Sergt.,  Aug.  1,  '64;  1st  Sergt,  March  8,  '65; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Bevier,  James  H.,  18;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  k.  June 

1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor. 
Bills,  Stephen  L.,  33;  Jan.  13,  '64,  Macedon;  Jan.  13;  dis.  June 

24,  '65,  Washington. 
Bishop,  Henry,  27;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  25;  k.  June  1, 

'64,  Cold  Harbor. 
Blakeman,  Hiram,  23;  July  24,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June 

26,  '64,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Blakeman,  Horace,  21;  July  30,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Mar.  7,  '65,  Parole  Camp,  Annap 
olis,  Md. 
Blakeman,  Sidney  S.,  26;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Conquest;  Sept.  1;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Blass,  Michael,  36;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Conquest;  Jan.  4;  dis.  May  31,  '65, 

hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Blass,  Walter,  21;  Aug.  23,  '64,  Conquest;  Aug.  23,  1  year;M. 

O.,  July  6,  '65. 


484  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Boyle,  Lawrence,  19;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Tyre;  Dec.  24;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Brett,  Joseph,  28;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  22;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  B,  7th  U.  S. 
Brooks,  Bela  S.,  39;  July  28,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.;  dis. 

March  27,  '63,  Fort  Simmons. 
Brooks,  George  L.,  21;  July  28,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  d.  Aug. 

24,  '64,  hospital,  Baltimore. 
Brooks,  William  G.,  18;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Brown,  Charles  S.;  dis.  Oct.  2,  '63,  Fort  Mansfield.     Register 

gives  nothing  further. 
Brown,  Jesse  S.,  30;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Hannibal;  Jan.  24;  dis.  May  31, 

'65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Bunn,  George,  23;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Sennett;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27, '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Burgess,  Almond,  43;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Sempronius;  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Burk,  Giles  O.,  27;  July  23,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Sergt., 

April  6,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Burns,  John,  18;  Aug.  9,  '64,  Tarrytown;  Aug.  9,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Campbell,  Christopher,  21;  Nov.  9,  '64,  New  York;  Nov.  9;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Carl,  William,  32;  Sept.  13,  '64,  New  York;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Carncross,  David  M.,  21;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Lysander;  Jan.  2;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Nov.  19,  '64,  Danville,  Va. 
Carroll,  James,  36;  Dec.  15,  '63,  Seneca  Falls;  Dec.  16;  d.  July 

12,  '64,  hospital,  Frederick,  Md.,  from  wounds  received  on 

the  9th  at  Monocacy. 
Carey,  Joseph,  28;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Macedon;  Jan.  2,  '64;  d.  July  10, 

'64,  hospital,  White  House,  Va. 
Chapman,  Addison  G.,  24;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Chapman,  Elon,  24;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  6,  '64;  k.  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy,  Md. 
Chappell,  Harvey,  18;  Feb.  7,  '64,  Auburn;  Feb.  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Chase,  Lewis,  32;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Tyrone;  Sept.  7,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Chase,  Orin,  18;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  28;  prisoner  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Clark,  Ezra,  18;  Dec.  15,  '63,  Waterloo;  Dec,  15;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Clark,  George  P.,  21;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Sempronius;  Sept.  3,  1  year; 

dis.  June  15,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Clevenger,  Samuel  B.,  21;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Macedon;  Jan.  5;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Had  served  in  33d  N'.  Y. 


COMPANY    C.  485 

Colburn,  John  F.,  18;  Feb.  24,  '64,  Phelps;  March  7;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cole,  Barton  D.,  23;  July  28,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Cole,  John  H.,  21;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  prisoner  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Sept.  6,  '64,  Camp  Parole,  Annapolis, 

Md. 
Collins,  Isaac,  24;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  wd.  June  1,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Costello,  William,  21;  Jan.  20,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  21;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cowan,  John,  18;  Dec.  20,  '63,  Macedon;  Dec.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cowell,  Charles,  26;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Nov. 

13,  '62;  Sergt,  April  6,  '64;  wd.  Cold  Harbor;  1st  Sergt, 

Nov.  19,  '64;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Cox,  James  W.,  29;  Sept.  19,  '64,  Barre;  1  year;  d.  Oct.  19,  '64. 

The  record  does  not  state  where. 
Craver,  Charles,  30;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Elbridge;  1  year;  dis.  July  2, 

'65,  hospital,  Frederick,  Md. 
Crosby,  Isaac  M.,  27;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Rochester;  1  year;  wd.  April 

2,  '65,  Petersburg;  dis.  July  5,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Crounse,  David,  21;  July  22,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 

6,  '64;  Sergt.,  Jan.  24,  '65;  wd.  June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Crounse,  David  J.,  22;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Nov.  19,  '63;  prisoner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  June  27, 

>65. 
Crounse,  Hiram,  39;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Conquest;  1  year;  wd.  April 

2,  '65,  Petersburg;  dis.  July  27,  '65,  hospital,  Eochester. 
Crounse,  Jacob,  18;  Feb.  2,  '64,  Conquest;  Feb.  6;  wd.  June  1, 

'64,  Cold  Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Daknett,  Frank,  25;  July  28,  '62,  Conquest;  Aug.  6;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Demass,  Martin,  18;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April  6, 

'64;  wd.  Cold  Harbor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Demott,  Park,  18;  Oct.  19,  '63,  Sterling;  Nov.  19;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Dewitt,  James  A.,  40;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

wd.  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Dewitt,  John  M.,  18;  July  28,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  prisoner 

July  9,  '65,  Monocacy;  d.  Feb.  12,  '65,  Danville,  Va. 
Dewitt,  Russell  M.,  14;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Auburn;  Aug.  30,  1  year; 

dis.  July  12,  '65. 
Dodd,  Edward,  39;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Tyrone;  Sept.  8,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Donnelly,  John,  21;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  21,  '63;  wd. 

Sept.  19,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Donovan,  Jeremiah,  18;  Jan.  20,  '64,  Oswego;  prisoner  July  9, 

'64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


486  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Earley,  Charles,  27;  July  30,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  M.  O.,  Sept.  22,  '65,  Elmira,  N.  Y. 
Edminster,  David,  23;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Sergt, 

April  6/64;  promoted  Bugler  Jan.  24,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Emerick,  Levi,  22;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  5;  prisoner  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Nov.  24,  '64,  Danville,  Va. 
Fiero,  Isaac  M.,  24;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  wd.  June  1, 

'64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  May  6,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester. 
Finnacy,  Richard,  28;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  d.  June 

24,  '64,  hospital,  Washington,  from  wounds  received  June 

5  at  Cold  Harbor. 
Finney,  William,  21;  July  29,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Sept. 

19,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Fisher,  George,  37;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Skaneateles;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Flint,  Clark  R.,  44;  Sept.  4,  Sempronius;  Sept.  21, 1  year;  d.  May 

26,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 

Follett,  Alanson  H.,  24;  July  28,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.; 

1st  Sergt.,  April  6,  '64;  k.  June  5,  '64,  Cold  Harbor. 
Foster,  Lewis  M..  18;  Sept.  1,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Nov. 

18,  '64  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Fuller,  David  N.,  27;  July  23,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  record  for  this 

name  obscure,  appears  to  have  been  dropped. 
Fuller,  Henry,  21;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June 

13,  '65. 
Fuller,  Silas,  36;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  Corp..  Nov.  18,  '64; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Fuller,  Squire,  21;  July  23,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  d.  Jan.  14,  '63, 

hospital,  Washington. 
Fuller,  William,  18;  July  28,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Gardner,  Turner,  27;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  dis.  April  22, 

'64,  Fort  Foote,  Md. 
Garity,  Frank,  18;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 

6,  '64;  Sergt,  Nov.  18,  '64;  wd.  June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor, 

and  Oct.  19  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Gerard,  Joseph  J.,  24;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Albany;  Dec.  14;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Veteran. 

Gerow,  William,  21;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Hannibal;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gifford,  Eugene,  18;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  d.  Nov.  11,  '63, 

Fort  Foote,  Md. 
Gilbert,  Spencer  C.,  19;  July  25,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Nov. 

18,  '64;  wd.  June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Grant,  Charles,  44;  Dec.  21,  '63;  Sennett;  Dec.  30;  k.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy. 
Grimes,  Stephen,  40;  July  30,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June 

13,  '65,  Washington.  * 
Hale,  James,  21;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Victory;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  dis.  Feb. 

2,  '63.  Fort  Gaines. 


COMPANY    C.  487 

Hammond,  Elias  G.,  31;  Aug.  28,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  Nov.  25,  '62;  dis.  May  7,  '64;  second  enlistment,  Aug. 

23,  '64;  Aug.  23,  1  year;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Hand,  Nathan  B.,  29;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Rose;  Jan.  2;  wd.  June  1,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor;  dis.  May  15,  '65,  in  the  field;  had  served  in  the 

lllth  N.  Y. 
Haver,  Robert  H.,  21;  July  21,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  in  V.  R. 

C.  from  April  18  to  Nov.  25,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Hay,  William,  36;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Macedon;  Dec.  28;  d.  Sept.  30, 

"  '63,  Fort  Simmons. 
Heater,  John,  20;  March  16,  '64,  Phelps;  March  17;  k.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy. 
Hitchcock,  George,  47;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Macedon;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Holcomb,  Alnion,  18;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  wd. 

June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  promoted  2d  Lieut.  Co.  E. 
Holcomb,  Horace,  19;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Hooker,  Francis  E.,  25;  Sept.  12,  '64,  Manchester;  Sept.  13,  1 

year;  dis.  June  13,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Hooker,  Joseph  C.,  18;  July  23,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Sept.  19, 

'64  ;M.  O.,  July  6, '65. 
Hunt,  Ralph,  24;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Dewitt;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Hunter,  Irving,  20;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8,  Musician; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Ingraham,  Oliver,  26;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Preble;  Dec.  24;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  G,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Isler,  Benjamin,  27;  Jan.  22,  '64,  Macedon;  Jan.  24;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
James,  Job,  18;  Feb.  12,  '64,  Syracuse;  Feb.  12;  wd.  Oct.  19,  '64, 

Cedar  Creek;  dis.  Dec.  31,  '65,  hospital,  Albany. 
Jayne,  Jotham,  34;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Sempronius;  1  year;  k.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Jayne,  Seneca,  42;  Aug.  27,  '64,  Sempronius;  Sept.  3,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Jetty,  Frank,  19;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  16, 

'65,  Washington. 
Jordan^  Chester  A.,  31;  Sept.  7,  '64,  Tyrone;  Sept.  7, 1  year;  wd. 

Sept.  19,  '64,  Winchester;  dis.  June  19,  '65,  Frederick,  Md. 
Kain,  John,  44;  Jan.  3,  '64,  Geddes;  Jan.  14;  dis.  Feb.  16,  '65, 

on  account  of  wounds  received  June  1,  '64,  at  Cold  Harbor. 
Kain,  Morris,  19;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Geddes;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June  27,  '65, 

2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Keefe,  Lawrence  O.,  20;  Dec.  12,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Kilmer,  George,  21;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  dis.  July  15,  '65, 

hospital,  York,  Penn. 
Lake,  Albert  W.,  18;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  d.  Dec.  8,  '63, 

Fort  Foote. 


488  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Lamphear,  Franklin  A.,  18;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Nov.  18,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Lapham,  Ira  B.,  32;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Macedon;  Dec.  30;  wd.  June 

3,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  d.  June  27,  '64,  hospital,  Alexandria. 
Lashier,  John  B.,  44;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Covert;  Dec.  26;  prisoner  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lewis,  Simeon,  21;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  28;  d.  July  12, 

'64,  hospital,  Frederick  Md.,  of  wounds  received  on  the  9th 

at  Monocacy. 
Livingston,  George  M.,  33;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Bolivar;  Jan.  4;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  Oct.  22,  '64,  from  hospital,  An 
napolis,  Md. ;  no  further  record. 
Lockwood,  William  H.,  20;  July  23,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  6,  '64;  Sergt.,  Nov.  18,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
London,  John,  23;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  19;  prisoner  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Dec.  20,  '64,  Danville. 
Lovell,  Chester  P.,  26;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  Artificer, 

April  1,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
McDaniels,  Cribean,  24;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Victory;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
McGarr,  Daniel,  19;  Aug.  7,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  d.  Nov.  29,  '62, 

Fort  Mansfield. 
McGrain,  John,  18;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Elmira;  Jan.  11;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McGuire,  Frank,  20;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Seneca  Falls;  Dec.  21;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McNamara,  Dennis,  36;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Lyons;  Jan.  4,  '64;  trans. 

June  27,  '65.  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McNett,  Alonzo,  36;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May  16,  '65, 

York,  Penn. 
McNulty,  Michael,  26;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  24;  wd.  June 

1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Manigan,  Timothy,  21;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  k.  June  2,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor* 
Meade,  Jacob,  22;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Mickle,  Andrew  H.,  28;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

Feb.  15,  '63. 
Miller,  Austin,  35;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Butler;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Miller,  Charles  W.,  18;  Nov.  24,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  2;  d.  Aug. 

22,  '64,  hospital,  Washington. 
Miller,  George,  21;  July  30,  '62,  Victory;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 

6,  '64;  d.  June  12,  hospital,  Alexandria,  from  wounds  re 
ceived  June  6  at  Cold  Harbor. 
Miller,  James,  31;  Sept.  9,  '64,  Syracuse;  1  year;  dis.  June  16, 

'65,  Washington. 
Miller,  Murray  H.;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 


COMPANY    C.  489 

Miller,  Peter,  22;  Aug.  4,  -62,  Cato;  Aug.  5;  dis.  as  Sergt.  June 

13,  '65,  Washington. 
Mills,  Matthew,  19;  Jan.  9,  '64,  Macedon;  Jan.  11;  k.  June  1, 

'64,  Cold  Harbor. 
Montgomery,  George,  18;  Feb.  15,  '64,  Syracuse;  Feb.  15;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Moore,  John,  18;  Jan.  8,  '64,  Macedon;  Jan.  11;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Morrison,  Isaac,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Marion;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Morton,  Franklin,  21;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Mexico;  Dec.  25;  dis.  June 

28,  '65,  Philadelphia. 

Myers,  Nicholas,  18;  July  4,  '63,  Sterling;  July  13;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Northrop,  David,  18;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Nov.  19, 

'64  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Paulston,  John,  23;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  19;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Peck,  Eli,  23;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  d.  Feb.  4,  '64, 

Fort  Foote. 
Petty,  Dudley  B.,  18;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Conquest;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Pierce,  Willard,  19;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Skaneateles;  1  year;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  Aug.  31,  '65. 

Porter,  Robert,  29;  Dec.  5,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  30;  wd.  Cold  Har 
bor;  d.  June  3,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Putnam,  Jacob  J.,  22;  July  23,  '63,  Cato;  trans.  April  18,  '64, 

V.  R,  C. 
Richardson,  James,  20;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Huron;  Jan.  2,  '64;  d.,  no 

date,  on  ship  Thomas  A.  Morgan;  body  brought  to  Fort 

Monroe  July  4,  '64. 
Richardson,  Richard,  44;  July  30,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

prisoner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Rifenberg,  Melvin,  23;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Macedon;  Jan.  2;  no  M.  O. 
Roe,  Thomas,  21;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Seneca  Falls;  Dec.  16;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Nov.  19,  '64,  Danville. 
Ryan,  Thomas,  21;  June  27,  '63,  Elmira;  July  13;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2dN.Y.  H.  A. 
Sabin,  Francis,  18;  July  1,  '63,  Hannibal;  July  13;  d.  Nov.  12, 

'63,  Fort  Foote. 
Sattler,  Peter,  40;  Jan.  13,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  13;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  H,  12th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Sawyer,  William  E.,  18;  Dec.  30,  '63,  New  York;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Schlienger,  Clement  H.,  35;  Aug.  23,  '64,  Cato;  Aug.  23,  1  year; 

wd.  April  2,  '64,  Petersburg;  dis.  June  22,  '65,  hospital, 

Washington. 
Schuller,  Michael,  21;  Sept.  10,  '64,  Rochester;  1  year;  wd.,  no 

date;  trans.  April  1,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 


490  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Seely,  Thomas,  28;  Dec.  16,  '64,  New  York;  Dec.  16;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Servoss,  Jay  C.,  29;  Jan.  4?  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Setright,  Patrick,  29;  Sept.  1,  '64,    Cato;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  wd. 

Oct.  19,  '64^  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Sherman,  Stephen  E.,  22;  July  28,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  d. 

Dec.  13,  '63,  Fort  Foote. 
Sidman,  John,  18;  Feb.  2,  '64,  Conquest;  Feb.  6;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Sidman,  Jonas,  18;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Conquest;  Sept.  2,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Sigsbee,  Nicholas,  18;  Oct.  22,  '63,  Sterling;  Nov.  19;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Aug.  9,  '64,  Staunton,  Va.,  on  his 

way  to  rebel  prison. 
Sisson,  Benjamin,  23;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Bolivar;  Jan.  1;  wd.  June  1, 

'64;  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  Sept.  7,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia; 

Vet.  Co.  I,  85th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Skinner,  Byron  J.,  20;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Marion;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65^  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Skinner,  Jeremiah,  23;  Dec.  5,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Sleyton,  Burton  H.,  18;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Dec.  26,  '63 ;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Sly,  William  S.,  18;  Feb.  12,  '64,  Dewitt;  Feb.  12;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Smith,  Edmund  S.,  28;  Aug.  27,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8,  Sergt; 

k.  June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor. 
Smith,  George  W.,  40;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

Aug.  14,  '63,  Fort  Gaines. 
Smith,  Lemuel,  25;  Nov.  9,  '64,  New  York;  Nov.  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Smith,  Serenus  L.,  45;  Feb.  10,  '64,  Geddes;  Feb.  10;  dis.  July 

18,  '65,  Syracuse. 
Smith,  Wellington,  24;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Macedon;  Dec.  29;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  Aug.  15,  '65,  Rochester. 
Snyder,' Walter,  21;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Auburn;  Aug.  30,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6, '65. 
Sours,  William,  32;  Dec.  27,  '63,  Macedon;  Dec.  27;  d.  July  14, 

'64,  Frederick,  Md.,  from  wounds  received  July  9  at  Mo 
nocacy. 
South  wick,  Allen,  20;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  dis.  March  27, 

'63,  Fort  Simmons. 
Southwick,  Benjamin,  20;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

Feb.  15,  '63,  Fort  Gaines. 
Spinning,  William  M.,  27;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8,  Wagoner; 

Bugler,  Jan.  1,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Stevenson,  David,  21;  June  26,  '63,  Auburn;  Jan.  26,  '63;  Corp., 

Nov.  18,  '64;  Sergt.,  March  8,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d 

N.  Y.  H.  A. ;  M.  O.  as  Sergt. 


COMPANY    C.  491 

Strickland,  Leander,  21;  Aug.  7,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  March 

8,  '64;  wd.  Cold  Harbor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Switzer,  Henry,  20;  July  28,  '64,  Conquest;  Aug.  6;  trans.  April 

18,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Thompson,  John  N.,  26;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  dis. 

May  15,  '65,  in  the  field. 
Tibbits,  Henry  A.,  21;  July  8,  '63,  Elinira;  July  13;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  dis.  June  29,  '65,  Philadelphia. 
Tifft,  James  W,,  23;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8,  1st  Sergt.; 

promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Timerson,  Oscar  F.,  18;  Jan.  8,  '64,  Lebanon;  Jan.  18;  d.  Nov. 

11,  '64,  Frederick,  Md. 
Todd,  William,  38;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Macedon;  Dec.  28;  wd.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  trans.  Jan.  20,  '65,  Co.  K,  llth  Regt.,V.  R.  C. 
Town,  Joel,  23;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  deserted  Feb.  18, 

'63,  Fort  Gaines. 
Townsend,  Smith,  22;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Conquest;  Sept.  3,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Trotter,  Henry,  18;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Macedon;  Feb.  6,  '64;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  Aug.  8,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester. 
Trumbull,  Charles  W.,  18;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Marion;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Tucker,  James,  43;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Covert;  Dec.  22;  prisoner  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Jan.  28,  '65,  Danville,  Va. 

Utter,  Thomas  D.,  42;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Bolivar;  Jan.  4;  wd.  April  2, 

'65,  Petersburg;  dis.  Aug.  12,  '65,  hospital,  Elmira. 
Vandervoort,  Martin  L.,  19;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Geddes;  Jan.  5;  wd. 

Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  May  15  in  the  field. 
Vanhee,  Adrian,  21;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Marion;  Jan.  5;  d.  June  25,  '64, 

hospital,  Washington. 
Van  Horn,  Henry  H.,  22;  July  24,  '62,  Cato;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Van  Vleck,  Granger,  18;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  5;  wd.  June 

10,  '64,  Cold  Harbor,  and  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  trans. 
June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Van  Vleck,  Henry,  42;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  d.  June 

14,  '65,  from  wounds  received  April  2  at  Petersburg. 
Walker,  James  H.,  23;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  6,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Watson,  Elisha,  22;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Conquest;   Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  6,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Weaver,  Andrus,  45;  July  24,  '62,  Conquest;    Sept.  8;    trans. 

Feb.  3,  '65,  4th  Co.,  2d  Bat,  V.  R.  C. 
Westfall,  Sidney  J.,  19;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Auburn;  1  year;  lost  right 

arm  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  Aug.  18,  '65,  hospital, 

Albany. 

Wheaden,  Lucius,  45;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Auburn;  no  M.  O. 
Wheeler,  William  H.,  30;  Dec.  15,  '63,  Seneca  Falls;  Dec.  15; 

prisoner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  Aug.  5,  '65,  Rochester. 


492  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Whiting,  Bronson,  18;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Brutus;  Jan.  4,  '64;  wd.  June 

3,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  July  14,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester. 
Whiting,  Joel  S.,  18;  Dec.  13,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  31;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wilkes,  Samuel,  23;  July  31,  '62,  Victory;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 

6,  '64;  k.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Wilkins,  Charles,  30;  Jan.  25,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  25;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wood,  George  W.,  44;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Clay;  Dec.  31;  wd.  June  1, 

'64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  March  17,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Worden,  Culver,  22;  Aug.  23,  '64,  New  York;  Aug.  23,  1  year; 

d.  Dec.  17,  '64,  Harper's  Ferry. 

COMPANY  D. 

This  came  pretty  near  being,  exclusively,  a  Lyons  company. 
The  commissioned  officers  were  from  that  town,  and  with  few 
exceptions  the  men  were  also.  The  earliest  name  enrolled  as 
given  by  the  adjutant  general  was  that  of  Corporal  John  L. 
Snyder,  Aug.  8;  then  there  is  a  break  till  we  reach  the  llth 
with  John  Albaugh,  Charles  E.  Knox  and  Albert  J.  Snyder. 
After  that  enlistments  were  brisk  to  the  26th,  when  apparently 
the  polls  were  closed,  the  company  being  full.  As  the  dates  are 
given,  it  would  seem  that  the  work  was  practically  all  done  in 
about  ten  days,  an  exceedingly  creditable  piece  of  work  to  those 
who  engineered  it. 

While  Lyons- furnished  the  majority  of  the  men,  the  neighbor 
ing  towrns  of  Sodus,  Huron,  Rose  and  Galen  contributed  a  few 
members. 

CAPTAINS. 

Charles  L.  Lyon,  29;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  date  of  rank, 

Aug.  22;  dis.  Feb.  16,  '64. 

George  W.  Bacon,  from  Co.  F,  Jan.  8,  '64 ;  dis.  Aug.  15,  '64. 
John  F,  Stewart,  from  1st  Lieut.,  Feb.  18,  '65;  rank  from  Feb. 

3;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Lewis  D.  Williams,  from  1st  Lieut.,  Sept.  28,  '64;  rank  from 

Aug.  15;  not  mustered;  dis.  Nov.  28,  '64. 

FIRST  LIEUTENANTS. 

Anson  S.  W^ood,  27;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  1st  Lieut.; 

rank  from  Aug.  22;  acting  Adjutant  after  Dec.  25,  '62; 

Adjutant,  March  14,  '63;  trans.  June  5,  '63,  to  Co.  M  as 

Captain. 
Samuel  C.  Redgrave,  from  2d  Lieut.,  June  6,  '63;  rank  from 

April  14;  dis.  April  1,  '64. 
Lewis  D.  Williams,  from  1st  Sergt.,  May  2,  '64 ;  rank  from  April 

4;  wd.  at  Monocacy;  promoted  Captain. 


COMPANY   D. 

Capt.  Geo.  W.  Bacon.  Capt,  Chas.  L.  Lyon.  Wm.  Hurt. 

1st  Lieut.  J.  H.  Ellis  (E).    1st  Lieut.  S.  C.  Regrave.    Byzant  Luckas.    Sergt.  N.  G.  York. 
Chas.  McDowell.  E.  W.  Newberry.  Sergt.  H  L.  Munn. 


COMPANY    D.  493 

Orrin  B.  Carpenter,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Sept.  28;  rank  from  Aug. 

15,  '64;  k.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 

John  F.  Stewart,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Nov.  14,  '64;  promoted  Capt. 
George  R.  Watson,  from  Co.  I,  Dec.  27,  '64;  resigned  June  1,  '65. 
Lewis  Barton,  from  2d  Lieut,  and  Quartermaster,  Feb.  3,  '65; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

SECOND   LIEUTENANTS. 

Samuel  C.  Redgrave,  25;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  rank  from 

Aug.  22;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Orrin  B.  Carpenter,  from  1st  Sergt.,  June  5,  '63 ;  rank  from  April 

14;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Samuel  W.  Lape,  from  Sergt.,  April  1,  '64;  rank  from  Feb.  17; 

dismissed  Sept.  12,  '64. 

Lewis  Barton,  from  Sergt.,  Nov.  14,  '64;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
John  F.  Stewart,  from  Co.  G,  Oct.  16,  '64;  date  of  rank,  Sept.  28; 

promoted  1st  Lieut. 
George  B.  Voorhies,  from  Sergt.,  Feb.  11,  '65;  rank  from  Jan. 

4;M.  O.,  July  6, '65. 
Benjamin  F.  Hoffman,  from  Co.  G,  March  2,  '65;  rank  from  Nov. 

12,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

NON-COMMISSIONED  OFFICERS  AND  PRIVATES. 

Adams,  George,  41;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Jan.  17, 

'64,  Fort  Simmons. 
Albaugh,  James,  21;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  d.  Nov.  29, 

'62,  Fort  Simmons. 
Albaugh,  John,  1st,  27;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Oct. 

10,  '63,  hospital,  Washington. 
Albaugh,  John,  2d,  21;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  d.  Dec.  7, 

'62,  Fort  Simmons. 
Allen,  Levi  F.,  31;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Sergt., 

April  10,  '63;  d.  Sept.  16,  '63,  hospital,  Washington. 
Allen,  Willard  T.,  20;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Lyons;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  had  served  two  years  in  Co.  B,  27th 

N.  Y. 
Andrews,  Henry  F.,  23;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Sodus;  Dec.  25;  dis.  May  8, 

'64,  to  enter  U.  S.  Navy. 
Angel,  Eben  H.,  22;  Jan.  5/64,  Otisco;  Jan.  5;  dis.  June  17,  '65, 

hospital.  Fortress  Monroe. 
Anson,  William,  18;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Huron;  Dec.  21;  k.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy. 
Armstrong,  Thomas,  32;  Aug.  16,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Baker,  Hudson  T.,  18;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  trans.  April 

18,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Baker,  Tallman  P.,  43;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  July  15, 

'65,  hospital,  Rochester. 


494  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Barton,  Lewis,  26;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.;  promoted 

2d  Lieut. 
Berkley,  Frederick,  24;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  wd.  June 

1,  *'64,  Cold  Harbor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Billings,  Silas  H.,  20;  Jan.  25,  '64,  Lafayette;  Jan.  25;  wd.  Sept. 

19,  '64;  dis.  Jan.  26,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Poland,  Andrew,  33;  Oct.  29,  '64,  New  York;  Oct.  29,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Boss,  George,  33;  Jan.  3,  '64,  Lyons;  Jan.  11;  prisoner  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bostwick,  Joseph  L.,  35;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Onondaga;  Jan.  5;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bourne,  Joseph,  23;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  March  7, 

'64,  Fort  Foote. 
Boyer,  William  H.,  24;  Sept.  10,  '64,  Lockport;  Sept.  12,  1  year; 

dis.  Aug.  28,  '65,  Elmira. 
Boyst,  John,  21;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Feb.  19, 

'65;  wd.  April  6,  '65,  Petersburg;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Bremer,  William,  18;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bridenboker,  Jacob,  40;  Jan.  6,  '64,  Brunswick;  Jan.  8;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Brown,  Byron,  18;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  26,  '65, 

Annapolis. 
Brundage,  Samuel  W.,  23;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Sodus;  Sept.  12,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Bullock,  Nathan,  25;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Burke,  Michael,  42;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb.  6,  '64, 

Camp  Distribution,  Va. 
Burns,  George  E.,  19;  Dec.  14,  ?63,  Kose;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Burns,  James  W.,  19;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Kose;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  July  6, 

'63;  Sergt,  April  18,  '65;  wd.  June  3,  '64,  Cold  Harbor; 

M.  O.,  July  6, '65. 
Burt,  William,  41;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Oct.  19,  '64, 

Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Bush,  Kellogg  C.,  21;  Jan.  28,  '64,  Lafayette;  Jan.  28;  wd.  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  May  15,  '65,  in  the  field. 
Button,  Elliott  H.,  28;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Button,  Sanford  E.,  21;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Clay;  Jan.  4;  dis.  Dec.  12, 

'64,  hospital,  Washington;  Vet.  Co.  H,  149th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Butts,  Luke  A.,  18;  Jan.  14,  '64,  Phelps;  Jan.  28;  deserted  Dec. 

4  '64. 
Carothers,  Robert,  25;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Scipio;  Sept.  3, 1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Carpenter,  Orrin  B.,  35;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  1st  Sergt.; 

promoted  2d  Lieut. 


COMPANY    D.  495 

Christian,  Marcus,  20;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Clapp,  Henry  R.,  18;  Sept.  5,  Wolcott;  Sept.  6;  dis.  May  22,  '65, 

Baltimore. 
Clark,  D  wight  C.,  18;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Clark,  George,  18;  April  1,  '63,  Lyons;  deserted  Dec.  16,  '63. 
Clark,  James,  14;  Dec.  19,  '62,  Dist.  Columbia;  Dec.  19,  Musi 
cian;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Clark,  John,  19;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  d.  Dec.  14,  '64,  in 

front  of  Petersburg. 
Clark,  Joseph,  24;  Sept.  17,  '64,  Albany;  1  year;  dis.  Sept.  7,  '65, 

Elmira. 
Clark,  Lewis  H.,  2d,  23;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Sodus;  wd.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy;  dis.  Oct.  3,  '64. 
Clark,  Merrick,  21;  Dec.  18,  Lyons;  Dec.  29;  prisoner  Aug.  17, 

'64,  Winchester;  dis.  June  27,  '65,  Annapolis. 
Clark,  Vincent  E.,  31;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Spafford;  Dec.  31;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  June  26,  '65,  Annapolis. 
Cobb,  John  G.,  22;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  4;  prisoner  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Oct.  14  on  cars  between  Danville  and 

Richmond. 
Comstock,  John  L.,  21;  Jan.  18,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  25;  wd.  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  trans.  Jan.  28,  '65,  Co.  C,  21st  Regt., 

V.  R.  C. 
Conklin,  John,  18;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Elbridge;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cook,  James,  18;  Jan.  20,  '64,  Camillus;  Jan.  20;  dis.  May  15, 

'65,  in  the  field. 
Coventry,  Marcus  A.,  21;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May 

13,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester. 
Crowfoot,  Charles,  20;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Dewitt;  Dec.  19;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Darling,  Martin.  24;  Feb.  1,  '64,  Syracuse;  Feb.  2;  dis.  June  8, 

'65,  hospital,  York,  Penn. 
Darling,  Philip  E.,  20;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Savannah;  Jan.  4;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Davenport,  Franklin  W.,  24;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Huron;  feepi.  8;  d. 

Oct.  4,  '63,  Fort  Foote. 
Davis,  Edwin  G.,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  wd.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  trans.  Jan.  16,  '65,  Co.  H,  3d  Regt.,  V.  R.  C. 
Dayton,  Wilson  J.,  35;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Dean,  John,  23;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  k.  June  8,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor. 

Dean,  Joseph  M.,  Jr.,  19;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  29;  no  M.  O. 
Deming,  Marvin  K.,  33;  Dec.  12,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  12;  trans.  Jan. 

31,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 
Dennis,  John,  44;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Phelps;  Dec.  19;  k.  June  7,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor. 


496  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Deuel,  Walter,  40;  Dec.  24,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  wd.,  no  data;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Drake,  Benson,  18;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Arcadia;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Nov. 

18,  '64;  Sergt.,  June  25,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Dunbar,  Levi  H.,  29;  Aug.  14,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Dunn,  Harrison,  21;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  trans.  April 

18,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 

Dunn,  Homer  C.,  18;  Aug.  16,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  detailed  to  serve 
as  sharpshooter  Oct.,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Dunning,  Edwin  P.,  30;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 
March  19,  '64;  prisoner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  July  15, 
'65,  Annapolis. 

Ehart,  Michael,  22;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  29;  wd.  Cold  Har 
bor;  dis.  July  6,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester. 

Ellis,  James  H.,  19;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.;  pro 
moted  Quartermaster  Sergt.,  Non-com.  Staff,  Sept.  8,  '62. 

Ellis,  John  L.,  33;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Lyons;  Jan.  4;  trans.  Oct.  14,  '64, 
V.  R.  C. 

Everhart,  Joseph  J.,  19;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb. 
8,  '64,  Fort  Foote. 

Falch,  Charles  F.,  27;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Lafayette;  Dec.  28;  wd.  Sept. 

19,  '64,  Winchester;  dis.  July  6,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Filoon,  John  W.,  24;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  June 

26,  '63;  k.  Sept.  19,  '64,  Winchester. 

Finch,  John  T.,  21;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May  8,  '64. 

to  enlist  in  U.  S.  Navy. 

Fish,  David,  29;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Fitzgerald,  Edward,  42;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Nov. 

17,  '63,  New  York. 

Fleming,  Joseph,  30;  Sept.  2,  '64,  China;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d 

N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Fleming,  Melvin,  18;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Sodus;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d 

N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Fuchs,  Philip  F.,  20;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Sergt.,  Dec. 

18,  '64  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Gardner,  Marcus,  33;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Otisco;  Dec.  31;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Gavin,  William,  22;  Aug.  23,  '64,  Wheatfield;  Aug.  23;  trans- 
June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  thence,  Aug.  5,  '65,  to  52d  N. 
Y.  Vols. 

Geer,  Harvey,  Jr.,  19;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 
6,  '65. 

Geiger,  Frederick,  37;  Oct.  7,  '64,  Kingston;  Oct.  7;  trans.  June 
27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Genthner,  Jacob  F.,  18;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Sodus;  Sept.  12,  1  year; 
M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Genthner,  John,  19;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Marcellus;  Sept.  6,  1  year; 
M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 


COMPANY    D.  497 

Genthner,  Rudolph,  18;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June 

26,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 

Gilkie,  Giles,  20;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  wd.  in  camp  Jan. 

12,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Golding,  William,  21;  Feb.  12,  '63,  Lyons;  Feb.  12;  dis.  April  18, 

'64,  to  enlist  in  U.  S.  Navy. 
Goodman,  Francis  O.,  33;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Onondaga;  Jan.  5;  M.  O., 

July  7,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Goseline,  Joseph  M.,  21;  April  29,  '63,  Lyons;  April  29;  wd. 

Sept.  19,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gunther,  Charles,  25;  Sept.  22,  '64,  Wilson;  Sept.  22,  1  year; 

dis.  June  14,  hospital,  York,  Penn. 
Hall,  Charles  K.,  23;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Lafayette;  Dec.  19;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hall,  Hamilton,  21;  Aug.  30,  Mentz;  Aug.  30,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Hanna,  James  P.,  25;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 

10,  '63;  Sergt,  Feb.  19,   '65;  wd.  Sept.  19,  Winchester; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Harrington,  Frederick,  43;  Aug.  18,  '64,  Auburn;  Aug.  18,  1 

year;  k.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Harris,  Wallace,  19;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Mentz;  Aug.  30,  1  year;  dis. 

May  12,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Hart,  John  W.,  18;  Oct.  14,  '63,  Lyons;  Aug.  14;  dis.  May  31, 

'65,  Washington. 
Haskell,  Darius,  39;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Hasselback,  Simon,  23;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  21;  wd.  Sept. 

19,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Havens,  Dewitt,  32;  Dec.  31,  Spafford;  Dec.  31;  prisoner  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Oct.  26,  '64,  Danville. 
Heck,  William,  21;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  June 

23,  '65  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Herrick,  William,  18;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Elbridge;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Hilliard,  Thomas,  44;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  21;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  had  served  in  27th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Hodges,  William,  21;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Hoeltzel,  George,  24;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May  30, 

'65,  hospital,  York,  Penn. 
Hoeltzel,  Henry,  27;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Sodus;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May  28, 

'63,  Washington. 
Hotaling,  Guy  T.,  17;  Jan.  20,  '64,  Dewitt;  Jan.  20;  d.  July  22, 

'64,  hospital,  Baltimore. 
Houghkirk,  Garrett,  37;  Jan.  20,  '64,  Dewitt;  Jan.  26;  wd.,  no 

date;  dis.  June  20,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Houghkirk,  Silas  H.,  19;  Jan.  16,  '64,  Dewitt;  Jan.  19;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
32 


498  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Howe,  Eland,  28;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Manilas;  Jan.  4;  k.  June  4,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor. 
Hudson,  Enos,  44;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  prisoner  June 

1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  June  19,  '65,  Annapolis. 
Jeffers,  Benjamin,  23;  Jan.  18,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  18;  prisoner 

on  march  to  Cold  Harbor,  June,  '64;  d.  July  26,  '64,  Ander- 

sonville. 
Johnson,  Mark  P.,  29;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Sodus;  Sept.  8;  trans,  to  24th 

V.  R.  C. 
Jones,  David,  21;  Feb.  24,  '63,  Lyons;  Feb.  24;  dis.  April  16,  '63, 

Fort  Simmons. 
Judd,  James  H.,  27;  June  27,  '63,  Galen;  June  27;  deserted  Mar. 

25,  '64,  Fort  Foote. 
Kelly,  John,  21;  June  3,  '63,  Elmira;  June  3;  deserted  July  10, 

'63,  Fort  Thayer. 
Kelly,  John,  40;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Onondaga;  Jan.  5;  trans.  Jan.  1, 

'65,  V.  R.  C. 
King,  William  H.,  25;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Walworth;  Sept.  5,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Kinney,  Irving,  21;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Dewitt;  Dec.  19;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Kirnagen,  John,  18;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Onondaga;  Sept.  5,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Klumpp,  George,  1st,  19;  Feb.  20,  '64,  Lyons;  Feb.  20;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Klumpp,  George,  2d,  35;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Elbridge;  Sept.  6,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Knapp,  Hiram  M.,  36;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May  15, 

'65,  Washington. 
Knox,  Charles  E.,  24;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Kurtz,  Andrew,  29;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Auburn;  Jan.  2,  '64;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Kurtz,  John  J.,  31;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Auburn;  Jan.  2;  d.  Nov.  2,  '64, 

hospital,  Annapolis ;  had  been  a  prisoner  of  war. 
Lafaver,  Henry,  18;  June  8,  '63,  Galen;  June  8;  deserted  Dec. 

16,  '63. 

Lape,  Samuel  W.,  32;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Sodus;  Sept.  8,  Sergt;  pro 
moted  2d  Lieut. 
Latimer,  Charles  W.,  18;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Lyons;  Jan.  2,  '65;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lemmon,  Elias  S.,  23;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Aug.  10, 

'63,  Fort  Simmons. 

Leroy,  Isaac,  18;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Loomis,  Henry,  18;  Jan.  25,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  25;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lovett,  Charles,  22;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Lyons;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6/65. 
Lowe,  John  F.,  18;  Dec.  18,  '64,  New  York;  1  year;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


COMPANY    D.  499 

Lowe,  William,  19;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Luckas,  Byzant,  21;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  d.  June  12, 

'64,  hospital,  Washington,  from  wounds  received  at  Cold 

Harbor. 
McCarthy,  Dennis,  18;  Jan.  14,  '64,  Dewitt;  Jan.  14;  dis.  May 

15,  '65,  in  the  field. 
McDaniels,  William,  20;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

July  6,  '63. 
McDowell,  Charles,  25;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
McDowell,  David,  21;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
McMullen,  Daniel,  44;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Sodus;  Dec.  28;  d.  Aug.  26, 

'64,  hospital,  New  York. 
Marigold,  Frederick,  18;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Ontario;  Sept.  5,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Marr,  Daniel,  18;  Feb.  19,  '64,  Canandaigua;  Feb.  19;  k.  June 

10,  '64,  Cold  Harbor. 
Mastin,  Theodore  D.,  24;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

Nov.  24,  '62. 
Miller,  Jacob,  22;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Elbridge;  Sept.  6,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Munn,  Hiram  L.,  21;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Sergt, 

March  19,  '64;  prisoner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Myers,  Valentine,  37;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Onondaga;  1  year;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  June  28,  '65,  hospital,  York,  Penn. 
Newbury,  Eben  W.,  21;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  June  25,  '65,  hospital,  York,  Pa. 
Norton,  James  K.,  22;  Sept.  14,  '64,  Sodus;  Sept.  14,  1  year;  dis. 

June  10,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Odell,  Lorenzo,  18;  Feb.  7,  '63,  Lyons;  Feb.  23;  trans.  June  27, 


'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


Ost,  John,  22;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  d.  April  2,  '64,  Fort 

Foote. 
Owen,  Thomas,  18;  Feb.  19,  '64,  Canandaigua;  Feb.  19;  Corp., 

June  6,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Parrish,  Norman  A.,  20;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

March  19,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Peck,  Hiram,  41;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  5;  prisoner  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  d.  Feb.  2,  '65,  Danville,  Va. 
Perkins,  John  L.,  23;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  prisoner  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Aug.  18,  '64,"  Danville,  Va. 
Pflug,  Jacob,  19;  Feb.  8,  '64,  Lyons;  Feb.  11;  Corp.,  April  18, 

'65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Phillips,  Charles  A.,  28;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb. 

8,  '64,  Fort  Foote. 
Pierce,  Orville,  19;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Scipio;  Sept.  3,  1  vear;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 


500  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Pomeroy,  George  P.,  33;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Onondaga;  Jan.  5;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Porter,  Henry,  21;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  k.  June  6,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor. 
Pudney,  Richard  D.,  21;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Sodus;  Sept.  9,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Quinn,  John,  22;  Jan.  22,  '63,  Lyons;  Jan.  22;  deserted  Oct.  8,  '63. 
Randall,  Marion  A.,  20;  June  20,  '63,  Galen;  June  22;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Rannische,  William,  29;  Jan.  20,  '64,  Farmington;  Jan.  23;  dis. 

July  8,  '65. 
Reynolds,  Aaron  I.,  21;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  Musician; 

d.  April  23,  '64,  Fort  Foote. 
Reynolds,  John,  25;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Nov.  18, 

'64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Rhodes,  William,  19;  Jan.  14,  '64,  Dewitt;  Jan.  14;  dis.  Nov.  5, 

'64,  hospital,  Washington. 
Riggs,  Levi,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  March  19, 

'64;  prisoner  July  9,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Rinehart,  Andrew,  42;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  k.  Sept. 

19,  '64,  Winchester. 
Rooker,  George,  19;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Sennett;  Jan.  4;  Corp.,  May  4. 

'64;  dis.  July  6,  '65,  Washington. 
Rooker,  Henry,  22;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Lyons;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  had  served  in  27th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Rooker,  John,  23;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  prisoner 

Dec.  12,  '62,  Dumfries,  Va.;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Roys,  Daniel  W.,  18;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  prisoner  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Feb.  6,  '65,  Danville,  Va. 
Roys,  James  S.,  20;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  Wagoner; 

Corp.,  May  19,  '64;  Sergt,  Nov.  18,  '64;  1st  Sergt,  March  3, 

'65  ;M.  O.,  July  6, '65. 
Rudd,  James  H.,  20;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Geneva;  Sept.  3,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Ryan,  Edward  E.,  44;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  trans.  Jan. 

1,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 
Schnatterback,  Joseph,  37;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  1;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Schofield,  Evart,  19;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Dewitt;  Jan.  11;  deserted 

Sept.  14,  '64. 
Scott,  Cornelius,  19;  Dec.  11,  '63,  Farmington;  Dec.  16,  Co.  K; 

trans,  to  Co.  D  March  6,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y. 

H.  A. 
Scott,  Cyrus,  41;  July  13,  '63,  Auburn;  in  Co.  K;  trans.  March 

8,  '64,  to  Co.  D;  dis.  April  20,  '64,  Fort  Baker. 
Seager,  Asher  W.,  20;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Nov. 

18,  '64  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Seager,  Benjamin,  23;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Sergt., 

March  19,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 


COMPANY   D.  501 

Sedore,  David,  18;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29,  Co.  H;  trans,  to 

Co.  D  Jan.  29,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Seeley,  Milton,  41;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Sodus;  Dec.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Shane,  Pearse,  22;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Syracuse;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  (X. 

July  6,  '65. 
Shannon,  Samuel  L.,  23;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Shaw,  John  P.,  24;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April  10, 

'63;  Sergt,  Aug.  6,  '63;  dis.  Feb.  8,  '63,  Fort  Foote. 
Shean,  Geqrge,  32;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Shean,  Theodore,  24;  June  19,  '63,  Galen;  June  19;  trans.  April 

18,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Siebert,  George,  20;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  5,  1   year;  M.  O.. 

July  6,  '65. 
Snitzel,  John  C.,  19;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Elbridge;  Sept.  6,  1  year;  dis. 

July  15,  '65,  Albany. 
Snitzel,  John  H.,  20;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Auburn;  Aug.  29,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Snyder,  Albert  J.,  21;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Sodus;  Sept.  8;  trans.  April 

18,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 

Snyder,  John  L.,  26;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  dis.  June 

25,  '64,  in  the  field. 
Spahr,  Caspar,  27;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb.  8,  '64, 

Fort  Foote. 
Spahr,  George,  21;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  March 

19,  '64;  d.  Aug.  11,  '64,  Frederick,  Md.,  from  wounds  re 
ceived  July  9  at  Monocacy. 

Spencer,  Albert,  20;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Dewitt;  Jan.  11;  wd.  Cold  Har 
bor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  K,  101st 

N.  Y.  Vols. 
Staats,  Charles,  20;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Wilson;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Stebbins.  Fred,  36;  April  8,  '63,  Lyons;  April  8;  Chief  Bugler, 

April,  '63;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Stell,  Frederick,  24;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  prisoner  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  Sept.  25,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester. 
Storrs,  Leonard  H.,  18;  Jan.  19,  '64,  South  Bristol;  Feb.  2,  '64; 

dis.  Sept.  20,  '65,  Elmira. 
Taft,  James  N.,  20;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Genoa;  Sept.  3,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Talhurst,  Amos,  43;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  23, 

'65,  Harper's  Ferry. 

Taylor,  Henry,  18;  Jan.  10,  '64,  Phelps;  Jan.  29;  dis.  July  2,  '65. 
Taylor,  James  K.,  18;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Otisco;  Jan.  1;  dis.  May  19, 

'65,  hospital,  Annapolis. 
Tice,  John,  39;  April  27,  '63,  Lyons;  April  27;  dis.  Feb.  8,  '64, 

Fort  Foote. 


502  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Tindall,  Myron  P.,  32;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb.  8, 

'64,  Fort  Foote. 
Tinney,  James  A.,  19;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Ontario;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Traverse,,  William,  18;  June  17,  '63,  Galen;  June  17;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Tryan,  Jay  H.,  32;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  28;  k.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy. 
Tuttle,  Abel  G.,  44;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  4;  dis.  Jan.  13, 

'65,  Washington. 
Van  Derbilt,  Abram  H.,  27;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

March  19,  '64;  wd.  June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  Jan.  30, 

'65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Van  Inwagen,  Littleton,  20;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Vickery,  Jonathan  W.,  19;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Feb.  19,  '65;  Sergt,  June  6,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Voorhees,  George  B.,  18;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Sergt, 

April  4,  '64;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Wager,  William,  23;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Walls,  William,  36;  Dec.  11,  '62,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  dis.  May  23, 

'65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Walmsley,  Albert,  18;  Jan.  18,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  18;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Walmsley,  Henry,  18;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29,  in  Co.  H; 

trans,  to  Co.  D  Jan.  29,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y. 

H.  A. 
Warn,  Charles  S.,  21;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Feb. 

18,  '63;  1st  Sergt.,  May  19,  '64;  dis.  April  25,  '65,  for  pro 
motion  1st  Lieut.,  13th  U.  S.  Colored  Troops. 
Way,  David,  26;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  prisoner  about 

June  14,  '64,  near  Chickahominy  river;  confined  in  Rich 
mond  June  16;  later  sent  to  Andersonville,  and  not  heard 

from  afterward. 
Wells,  Elisha  D.,  23;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Wesley,  Hartman,  44;  March  17,  '63,  Lyons;  March  17;  dis. 

June  14,  '65,  Washington. 
Westbrook,  Charles,  34;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June 

21,  '65,  hospital,  York,  Penn. 
Wrilliams,  Joseph  L.,  31;  Jan.  12,  Verona;  Jan.  20;  trans.  Oct. 

15,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Williams,  Lewis  D.,  35;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  '62,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  Sept.  15,  '62;  1st  Sergt.,  June  26,  '63;  wd.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Wilson,  Thomas,  24;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Otisco;  Dec.  21;  wd.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  dis.  May  31,  hospital,  Rochester;  Vet.  Co. 

I,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 


COMPANY    E.  503 

Wimmensf older,  William  C.,  32;  Sept.  18,  '64,  Montezuma;  Sept. 

20,  1  year;  wd.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  June  7,  '65, 

hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Woodard,  David,  21;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  Musician; 

deserted  Nov.  24,  '64. 
Woodruff,  Isaac,  21;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Wooley,  Charles  M.,  19;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Montezuma;  Sept.  2;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Worden,  John  V.,  21;  Jan.  18,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  18;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
York,  Norman  G.,  27;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

Sergt,  March  19,  '64;  prisoner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d. 

Dec.  25,  '64,  Danville,  Va. 
York,  Thomas,  30;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.;  dis.  June 

6,  '65,  Frederick,  Md. 
Zwilling,  William,  23;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  April 

27,  '64,  Fort  Baker. 

COMPANY  E. 

The  genesis  of  a  company  of  soldiers  is  an  exceedingly  inter 
esting  subject.  Sometimes  the  men  come  entirely  from  one 
town  or  city;  again  they  are  the  mergings  of  several  localities 
with  some  one  place  as  the  centre.  Company  E  was  peculiarly 
a  southern  Cayuga  organization.  As  originally  constituted 
there  may  have  been  a  few  from  Auburn,  but  by  far  the  ma 
jority  came  from  the  south.  Captain  Cornwell  of  Scipio  and 
Lieutenant  Stoyell  of  Moravia  did  a  large  part  of  the  recruiting, 
with  Lieutenant  S.  F.  Swift  in  Auburn  looking  after  his  vici 
nage.  Daniel  Manchester  of  Scipio  put  down  his  name  the  9th 
day  of  August,  and  enlistment  followed  till  September  5th. 
Practically  all  the  towns  south  of  Auburn  were  interested,  with 
a  frequent  recurrence  of  Scipio,  Venice  and  Moravia. 

The  burden  of  the  enlisting  was  borne  in  the  latter  part  of 
August;  only  six  names  appear  as  added  in  September. 

CAPTAINS. 

Selah  Cornwell,  36;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8,  Captain;  rank 
from  Aug.  22;  d.  Nov.  1,  '62,  near  Tennallytown,  Md. 

Henry  Eoessle,  from  Co.  I,  29th  N.  Y.  Vols.,  Dec.  16,  '62;  pro 
moted  Major  15th  N.  Y.  Cav.  March  17,  '64;  M.  O.  as  Lieut. 
Col.  at  the  close  of  the  war.  His  record  before  joining  the 
Ninth:  enlisted,  age  20,  May  18,  '61,  Albany;  2d  Lieut.,  Dec. 
2,  '61;  1st  Lieut,  Oct.  2,  '62. 

William  Hawley,  from  Co.  G,  May  28,  '64;  rank  from  March  16; 
wd.  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  resigned  Sept.  14,  '64. 

Orson  Howard,  from  Co.  I?  Sept.  28,  '64;  k.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar 
Creek. 


504  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

John  Tifft,  from  1st  Lieut.,  Dec.  16,  '64,  rank  from  Nov.  14; 
M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

FIRST  LIEUTENANTS. 

Seth  F.  Swift,  38;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  1st  Lieut.;  rank 
from  Aug.  24;  resigned  Feb.  23,  '64. 

Jakeway  R.  Hoff,  from  Co.  A,  March  1,  '64;  resigned  Oct.  3,  '64. 

James  H.  Ellis,  from  2d  Lieut.,  May  28,  '64;  rank  from  March 
17;  k.  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy. 

John  Tifft,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Sept.  28,  '64;  rank  from  July  9;  pro 
moted  Captain. 

Almon  Holcomb,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Jan.  13,,  '65;  rank  from  Nov. 
29,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Vincent  A.  Kenyon,  from  2d  Lieut.,  March  1,  '65;  rank  from 
Feb.  3;  M.  O.  as  Adjutant,  July  6,  '65. 

SECOND   LIEUTENANTS. 

George  C.  Stoyell,  22;  Aug.  25,  '62;  Sept.  8,  2d  Lieut.;  rank  from 

Aug.  24 ;  d.  June  21,  '63,  Georgetown. 

John  Tifft,  from  1st  Sergt.,  Feb.  16,  '63;  rank  from  Jan.  21;  pro 
moted  1st  Lieut. 
James  H.  Ellis,  from  field  and  staff,  April  8,  '64;  rank  from  Feb. 

15 ;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Almon  Holcomb,  from  Corp.,  Co.  C,  Oct.  16,  '64;  rank  from 

April  4;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Vincent  A.  Kenyon,  from  1st  Sergt.,  Dec.  16,  '64;  rank  from 

Nov.  14;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Hiland  H.  Wheeler,  Jr.,  from  Co.  A,  Feb.  24,  '65;  trans.  July  6, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  M.  O.  as  1st  Lieut. 
Robert  L.  Daniels,  from  llth  N.  Y.  Battery,  Jan.  18,  '65;  trans. 

July  6,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    He  had  enlisted,  age  20,  Dec. 

23,  '61,  Albany,  as  private;  re-enlisted,  Jan.  23,  '64,  Brandy 

Station. 

NON-COMMISSIONED  OFFICERS  AND  PRIVATES. 

Ackles,  Frank,  20;  in  Co.  L,  Oct.  23,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  12; 

trans.,  Feb.  26,  Co.  E;  d.  July  12,  '64,  Frederick,  Md.,  from 

wounds  received  July  9  at  Monocacy. 
Ackles,  Henry,  19;  in  Co.  L,  Oct.  30,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  12; 

trans.,  Feb.  26,  Co.  E;  trans.  June  27,  '65^  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Agard,  Charles,  37;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Skaneateles;  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Allen,  Frederick  S.,  33;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  7,  '63;  d.  Sept.  8,  '63,  Fort  Foote. 
Arnold,  Benjamin  A.,  20;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  April  7,  '63;  1st  Sergt.,  July  21,  '63;  dis.  May  4,  '64. 
Arnold,  Thomas,  28;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

April  27,  '63. 


2D   LIEUT.   G.    C.    STOYELL, 

CAPTAIN   SELAH   CORNWELL,  1ST   LIEUT.    S.   F.    SWIFT. 

COMPANY  E. 


COMPANY    E.  505 

Aspinwall,  Nathaniel,  44;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  d.  July 

4,  '65,  Fort  Sumner. 
Austin,  Ansel  P.,  18;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Covert;  Dec.  30;  dis.  May  15, 

65,  hospital. 
Austin,  Henry  K.,  Jr.,  33;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp. 

,  '63;  Sergt,  April  6,  '64;  1st  Sergt.,  May  16,  '64;  d. 

July  3,  '64,  of  wounds  received  June  1  at  Cold  Harbor. 
Baker,  George,  22;  Jan.  9,  '64,  Scipio;  Jan.  9;  dis.  July  2,  '65. 
Barber,  Sylvester,  25;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Farmington;  Sept.  9,  1  year; 

d.  Oct.  27,  '64,  Baltimore,  of  wounds  received,  probably,  at 

Cedar  Creek. 
Barnes,  Benjamin  F.,  31;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Scipio;  Aug.  25,  Corp.: 

Sergt.,  Sept.  25,  '63;  1st  Sergt.,  Dec.  16,  '64;  promoted  1st 

Lieut.,  Co.  A. 
Bassett,  Joseph,  33;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

dis.  May  17,  '63,  hospital. 
Bassett,  Thomas,  30;  Aug.  26,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Aug.  26;  dis. 

May  17,  '65,  hospital. 
Bennett,  John,  42;  Aug.  27,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Aug.  19, 

'63. 
Benson,  Eleazer,  34;  Sept.  22,  '64,  Rochester;  Sept.  24;  dis.  June 

30,  '65. 

Benson,  Stephen  H.,  24;  Oct.  17,  '64,  New  York;  Oct.  17;  sun 
struck,  June  8,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Bigelow,  Henry  L.,  18;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Caneadea;  Dec.  24;  k.  July 
9,  '64,  Monocacy. 

Bradley,  Schuyler,  28;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Moravia;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Dec. 

31,  '63. 

Breed,  Chauncey,  28;  Dec.  21,  Venice;  Jan.  8,  '64;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Breed,  Frank  F.,  18;  July  31,  '63,  Venice;  Aug.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Breed,  George,  18;  July  31,  '63,  Venice;  Aug.  4;  dis.  May  23,  '63. 
Breed,  Harrison  H.,  24;  Feb.  8,  '64,  Venice;  dis.  April  20,  '64; 

rejected  recruit. 
Brewster,  James,  22;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Lyons;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Bronson,  Frank  O.,  19;  Jan.  18,  '64,  Groton;  Jan.  18;  dis.  May 

15,  '65,  hospital. 
Brooks,  George  W.,  34;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Dec. 

13,  '64;  dis.  May  15,  '65. 
Brown,  Dwight,  17;  Dec.  1,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Brown,  Emmett  J.,  24;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Auburn;  Sept.  7,  1  year; 

Corp.,  Oct.  18,  '64;  wd.  April  2,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65 ;"  Vet. 

149th  N.  Y. 
Buckley,  Benjamin  F.,  24;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Summer  Hill;  Sept.  8, 

Sergt;  1st  Sergt,  Jan.  15,  '63;  dis.  July  20,  '63;  promoted 

2d  Lieut.,  3d  U.  S.  Colored  Troops;  had  served  in  44th  N. 

Y.  Infantry. 


506  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Burke,  Thomas,  26;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 

Bush,  Charles,  25;  Jan.  18,  '64,  Lodi;  Jan.  20;  dis.  May  15,  '65. 
Bush,  Julius,  28;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Moravia;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Jan.  20, 

'64,  hospital. 
Caine,  Charles  R.,  25;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dig.  March 

13,  '63. 
Caine,  Ira,  24;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Sept.  1,  '64; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Cannon,  Edwin  J.,  26;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  trans.  April 

18,  '64,  V.  K.  C. 
Casler,  Henry,  21;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  wd.  June,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor;  trans.  Jan.  10,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 
Casler,  Jacob,  18;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  k.  June  3,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor. 
Casler,  John,  24;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8;  deserted  Nov.  9, 

'62. 
Casler,  Oliver  M.,  27;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  d.  Jan.  28, 

'65,  in  the  field. 
Cater,  Charles,  18;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  May 

16,  '64;  prisoner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacv;  dis.  June  9,  '65,  hos 
pital. 

Caton,  Hugh,  32;  Feb.  22,  '64,  Harford;  Feb.  22;  wd.  Cold  Har 
bor;  dis.  June  5,  '65,  hospital. 
Chaff ee,  James,  18;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Fabius;  Dec.  19;  Corp.,  March 

4,  '65;  prisoner  April  2,  '65,  Petersburg;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Chambers,  Jeremiah,  31;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Schenectady;  Aug.  31,  1 

year;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Chaplain,  Isaac,  42;  Sept.  12,  '64,  Macedon;  Sept.  12,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Clark,  Thomas,  32;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  July 

21,  '63;  d.  Sept.  27,  '63,  Fort  Foote. 
demons,  Julius  E.,  18;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Conesus;  Sept.  7,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Clemons,  Royal  R.,  21;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Conesus;  Sept.  7,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Cobb,  Alton  E.,  19;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Montgomery;  Dec.  31;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Condon,  Isaac,  30;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Venice;  Dec.  26;  no  M.  O. 
Conroy,  Henry,  29;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Sergt, 

April  7,  '63;  k.  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy. 
Cook,  Darius  M.,  44;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Ledyard;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  k. 

Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Corbett,  John,  21;  Oct.  29,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  5,  '63;  deserted 

June  16,  '65. 
Corcoran,  Stephen,  42;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept,  8;  d.  July 

1,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Corlies,  Charles  M.,  24;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8;  Corp.. 

Oct.  3,  '63;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 


COMPANY   B.  507 

Covey,  Edwin,  18;  Nov.  26,  '63,  Moravia;  Dec.  2;  trans.  Nov.  2, 

'64,  V.  B.  C. 
Covey,  Silas  M.,  43;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Venice;  Dec.  31;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cowan,  Ephraim  W.,  40;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Ledyard;  Sept.  8;  trans. 

April  18,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Coy,  Edwin  G.,  23;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  d.  Sept.  27,  '64, 

Fort  Reno. 
Crowfoot,  Charles  F.,  19;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Aug. 

29,  '64. 
Culver,  Francis  M.,  28;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb. 

10,  '64. 

Cutler,  Dorr,  25;  Aug.  14,  '62;  Moravia;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  dis.  Jan. 

11,  '63. 

Defendorf,  Edwin,  21;  Aug.  17,  '62,  Niles;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Oct. 

18,  '64  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Dennis,  Daniel  D.,  34;  Sept.  14,  '64,  Victor;  Sept.  15,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Dickenson,  Christopher,  18;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  21;  dis. 

July  15,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester. 
Dodd,  Elias,  30;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8;  Artificer,  March 

15,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Dolson,  Cornelius,  21;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Genoa;  Jan.  9;  dis.  May  25, 

'65,  hospital. 
Donohue,  Daniel,  33;  July  22,  '63,  Scipio;  Sept.  3;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor ;  dis.  March  11,  '65,  hospital,  Albany. 
Dorsey,  Michael,  44;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Aurelius;  Sept.  8;  wd.  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  trans.  Feb.  2,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 
Douglass,  David,  29;  Jan.  17,  '64,  Harford;  Jan.  28;  d.  July  31, 

'64.  of  wounds  received  at  Cold  Harbor. 
Doyle,  James,  35;  Sept.  4,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  d.  Jan.  10,  '64, 

Fort  Foote. 

Doyle,  Michael,  40;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Scipio;  Dec.  31;  dis.  Nov.  25,  '64. 
Doyle,  Terrance,  26;  Aug.  27,  '61,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Jan.  14, 

'63. 
Dunham,  George,  34;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Caneadea;  Dec.  30;  d.  June 

29,  '64,  of  wounds  received  at  Cold  Harbor. 
Dunn,  John,  30;  Sept.  10,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  19,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Eaton,  Augustus,  22;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Summer  Hill;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Emerson,  Lewis,  28;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Scipio;  Dec.  30;  trans.  May  7, 

'64,  to  U.  S.  Navy. 
Evans,  William  J.,  21;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Moravia;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Mar. 

27,  '63. 

Everett,  James,  18;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Neversink;  Dec.  23;  no  M.  O. 
Fales,  Anthony,  23;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Sodus;  Dec.  29;  d.  Aug.  13,  '64, 

from  wounds  received  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy. 
Falvey,  Patrick,  32;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Niles;  1  year;  k.  Oct.  19,  '64, 

Cedar  Creek. 


508  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Finney,  Frederick  H.,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Groton;  Jan.  8;  trana 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Flynn,  Francis,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April  6, 

'64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Fobes,  Sylvester,  36;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Macedon;  Sept.  12,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Fordyce,  John  H.,  28;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  d.  Nov.  14, 

'62,  Georgetown. 
Foreman,  Amos,  26;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Foster,  John,  20;  Aug.' 25,  '62,  Fleming;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Foster,  Sylvester,  20;  Feb.  10,  '64,  Harford;  Feb.  11;  dis.  June 

27,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester. 
Fox,  Lloyd,  23;  Jan.  21,  '64,  Venice;  Jan.  21;  d.  Nov.  15,  '64, 

Venice. 
Frair,  Austin,  21;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  k. 

Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Frank,  Roland  C.,  16;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Virgil;  Dec.  22;  d.  Aug.  7, 

'64,  hospital,  New  York. 
Freeborn,  Milford  D.,  25;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Caneadea;  Dec.  21;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Fritts,  George,  45;  Aug.  27,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  trans.  April 

18,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Fry,  Hiram,  21;  Aug.  13,  '64,  Ledyard;  1  year;  dis.  June  8,  '65. 

hospital. 
Furguson,  Thomas,  35;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Niles;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  23, 

'65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Gale,  Edwin,  20;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Sept.  1, 1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Gannon,  Michael,  27;  Dec.  27,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  d.  June  26, 

'65,  hospital. 
Gleason,  James,  19;  Jan.  6,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  15;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Goodrich,  Addison,  33;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Sempronius;  Jan.  4,  '64; 

k.  Sept.  19,  '64,  Winchester. 
Goodridge,  Heman  W.,  27;  Nov.  19,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.;  trans. 

June  27.  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Green,  Andrew  M.,  30;  enlisted  in  Co.  L  Dec.  14,  '63,  Onondaga; 

Dec.  15;  trans,  to  Co.  E,  date  not  given;  dis.  June  23,  '65, 

Washington. 
Green,  Edward,  28;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Venice;  Jan.  4,  '64;  Corp., 

June  10,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hardy,  George,  25;  Sept.  14,  '64,  Victor:  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Hardy,  Simeon,  18;  Feb.  12,  '64,  Jasper;  Feb.  14;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hardy,  William,  23;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Jasper;  Sept.  12,  1  year;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek;  dis.  Aug.  19,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 


COMPANY    E.  509 

Hartigan,  Daniel,  24;  Nov.  7,  '63,  Oswego,  in  Co.  L;  trans,  to  E 

Feb.  3,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hartnett,  James,  45;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Scipio;  Jan.  1;  prisoner;  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  June  6,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Haskell,  Josephus,  19;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Harford;  Dec.  30;  d.  April 

20,  '65,  Harford. 
Hayden,  Lawrence.  37;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Niles;  Sept.  1, 1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Heath,  Jerome,  21;  Nov.  28,  '63,  Skaneateles;  Dec.  9  in  Co.  L; 

trans,  to  E,  no  date;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Henry,  William,  16;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Fort  Foote;  Jan.  11,  Musician; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hitchcock,  Daniel,  41;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Fleming;  Sept.  8,  Musician; 

deserted  Nov.  11,  '62. 

Hogan,  Michael,  20;  came  to  company  Aug.  19,  '64,  as  a  sub 
stitute;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hough,  Charles  W.,  26;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Sept.  22,  '62;  Sergt.,  Jan.  14,  '63;  trans.  March  30,  '63,  field 

and  staff. 
Howell,  John,  32;  Sept.  4,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  d.  Sept.  14,  '63, 

Fort  Foote. 
Huff,  Edgar  R.,  18;  Jan.  9,  '64  Caneadea;  Jan.  9;  Corp.,  Oct.  18, 

'64;  Sergt,  Feb.  1,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hutchinson,  Alpheus,  18;  July  3,  '63,  Venice;  Aug.  4;  wd.  June 

6,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  Corp.,  March  4,  '65;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hutchinson,  John,  21;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Sept. 

25,  '63;  Sergt,  Dec.  17,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Jaquett,  Benjamin,  42;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Fleming;  Jan.  4;  dis.  June 

5,  '65. 
Jaquett,  William  L.,  28;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp.. 

Jan.  14,  '63;  Sergt.,  Nov.  26,  '63;  trans.  Feb.  1,  '65,  field  and 

staff. 
Jones,  Amos  S.,  27;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 

23,  '63;  Sergt,  May  16,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Jones,  Gilbert,  20;  Aug.  11,  '64,  Auburn;  Aug.  11,  1  year;  M.  O.. 

July  6,  '65. 
Jones,  Jacob,  20;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Niles;  Sept  8;  d.  Dec.  5,  '64, 

Kelloggsville. 
Jonesbury,  William,  19;  Sept.  7,  '63,  Elbridge;  Nov.  5,  '63;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Keech,  Isaac  E.,  21;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Harford;  Jan.  4;  dis.  July  8,  '65, 

Washington. 
Keeslar,  Daniel,  30;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Camillus;  1  year;  d.  April  4, 

'65,  of  wounds  received  April  2  at  Petersburg.    (See  also 

Co.  A.) 
Keeslar,  Simeon,  21;  Sept  3,  '64,  Camillus;  Sept  3,  1  year;  d. 

April  18,  '65,  from  wounds  received  April  2  at  Petersburg. 
Kenyon,  Vincent  A.,  20;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Sempronius;  Sept.  8; 


510  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Corp.,  April  7,  '63;  Q.  M.  Sergt.,  April  6,  '64;  1st  Sergt, 

July  30,  '64;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Kilbourn,  George  A.,  39;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Caneadea;  Corp.,  July  20, 

'64;  d.  Feb.  2,  '65,  Caneadea. 
Kimball,  Kobert,  28;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8;  prisoner  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Nov.  24,  '64,  Danville,  Va. 
King,  William  E.,  18;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  6,  '64;  k.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Kingsley,  John  L.,  32;  Feb.  20,  '64,  Throop;  Feb.  20;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Kirby,  Patrick  E.,  22;  Sept.  5,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  d.  July  21, 

'64,  from  wounds  received  July  9  at  Monocacy. 
Ladue,  Ambrose,  20;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Montezuma;  Dec.  31;  d.  pris 
oner  of  war  in  Andersonville  Oct.,  '64. 
Lamb,  Reuben  P.,  22;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Macedon;  Sept.  3,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Landin,  Henry,  25;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Venice;  Jan.  4;  wd.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy;  dis.  June  19,  '65,  hospital,  Annapolis. 
Lansdown,  John,  18;  Oct.  30,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  12;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Lavens,  Louis,  35;  Nov.  18,  '63,  Oswego;  Nov.  24;  wd.  Cold  Har 
bor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lavin,  John,  18;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  5;  no  M.  O. 
Lavin,  Patrick,  43;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Moravia;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Lawrence,  Norman,  29;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  k.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy,  while  helping  Col.  Seward  from  the  field. 
Leavenworth,  Henry,  vide  Maygold. 
Lee,  Charles  H.,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Niles;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  May  16, 

'63;  Sergt.,  April  6,  '64;  1st  Sergt.,  March  4,  '65;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Lee,  John  E.,  18;  Aug.  18,  '64,  Skaneateles;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Leonard,  Elijah  T.,  19;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Oct.  3,  '63;  Sergt,  July  30,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Leonard,  Isaac,  20;  Aug.  5,  '64,  Groton;  Aug.  5,  1  year;  d.  Oct. 

28,  '64,  from  wounds  received  Oct.  19  at  Cedar  Creek. 
Lewis,  Stephen,  44;  Jan.  15,  '64,  Onondaga;  Jan.  15;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Litchard,  Almanzo,  23;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Conesus;  Sept.  7,  1  year; 

dis.  June  16,  '65,  hospital;  Vet.  Co.  D,  86th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Loveland,  George,  18;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Sept.  2,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Lyons,  John,  31;  Sept.  1,  '62,  Aurelius;  Sept.  8;  trans.  April  18, 

'64,  V.  R.  C. 
McCabe,  Dennis,  28;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  21,  in  Co.  L; 

trans,  to  E,  no  date;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McConnell,  Levi,  20;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Montezuma;  Jan.  4,  '64;  pris 
oner  June,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  d.  Dec.  1,  '64,  Andersonville. 


COMPANY  E. 

Lieut.  V.  A.  Kenyon.  Lieut.  H.   H.  Wheeler,  Jr. 

Capt.  Orson  Howard. 
H.  K.  Austin.  F.  L.  Royce.  Frank  Tallman. 


COMPANY    E.  511 

McGee,  David,  18;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Caneadea;  Jan.  11;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McMicken,  Wirtz,  21;  Oct.  22,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  5,  '63;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Mahoney,  Timothy,  37;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Niles;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  wd. 

Ced'ar  Creek;  dis.  Sept.  4,  '65,  Elmira. 
Maine,  William  F.,  21;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Genoa;  Jan.  5;  said  to  have 

deserted  to  the  enemy  July  9,  '64,  at  Monocacy. 
Manchester,  Daniel  H.,  31;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.; 

dis.  Feb.  14,  '63. 
Marshall,  Arthur  W.,  40;   Aug.  29,  '64,  Venice;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

promoted  2d  Lieut.,  Co.  G,  Nov.  14,  '64;  had  been  2d  Lieut., 

Co.  I,  lllth  N.  Y. 
Marshall,  William,  23;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Martin,  Jefferson  L.,  20;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  July  21,  '63;  k.  June  3,  '64,  Cold  Harbor. 
Maur,  John,  27;  Aug.  27,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Nov.  26, 

'63;  dis.  March  21,  '65. 
Maygold  (Leaven worth),  Henry,  18;  Dec.  9,  '63,  Seneca  Falls; 

Dec.  2;  wd.  Cold  Harbor;  Corp.,  May  24,  '65;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Mehan,  Edward,  25;  March  31,  '64,  New  York;  March  31;  no 

M.  O. 
Merical,  Taylor,  17;  Feb.  8,  '64,  Harford;  Feb.  8;  d.  July  27,  '64, 

Washington. 
Merrett,  John  E.,  18;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Genoa;  Jan.  4,  '64;  wd.  Cedar 

Creek;  dis.  May  26,  '65,  hospital. 
Meyers,  John,  30;  Sept.  30,  '64,  Bennington;  Sept.  30,  1  year; 

dis.  May  18,  '65.       : 
Moore,  James,  26;  Dec.  2,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  24;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Moore,  William  F.,  21;  Dec.  11,  '63,  Virgil;  Dec.  22;  Corp.,  Oct. 

18,  '64;  Sergt,  March  3,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y. 

H.  A.;  Vet. 
Morehouse,  Anson,  19;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Covert;  Dec.  30;  M.  O., 

May  3,  '65. 
Mosier,  Edward,  23;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Montezuma;  Dec.  31;  d.  Nov. 

— ,  '64,  a  prisoner  in  Andersonville. 

Muldoon,  John,  31;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Venice;  Dec.  31;  dis.  Mar.  1,  '65. 
Murney,  Cornelius,  28;  Dec.  16,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  16;  dis. 

Jan.  16,  '65. 
Musselman,  George  F.,  40;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Marion;  Dec.  26;  dis. 

June  16,  '65;  Vet.  of  Mexican  War. 
Myers,  Horace,  28;  Sept.  2,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65, 
Neff,  Alexander,  19;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Neff,  Joseph,  28;  Feb.  6,  '64,  Harford;  Feb.  20;    trans.  June 
27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


512  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Niles,  Delos,  20;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April  6, 

'64;  Sergt.,  Sept.  1,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Norris,  Charles,  18;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Camillus;  Sept.  3,  1  year;  k. 

Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Norris,  Silas,  20;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  M.  Ov 

July  6,  '65. 
Olin,  Jonathan,,  44;  Aug.  16,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  trans.  June 

6,  '63,  V.  R.  C. 
Olin,  Russell,  18;  Aug.  16,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  d.  Sept.  11,  '63, 

Fort  Foote. 
O'Neal,  John,  36;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Niles;  Sept.  1, 1  year;  k.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Osier,  Charles,  25;  Nov.  11,  '64,  New  York;  Nov.  11;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Osier,  David,  26;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Cold  Har 
bor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Parker,  Hiram  H.,  29;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Caneadea;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Parker,  Joseph  C.,  42;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Cato;  Sept.  12,  1  year;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek;  dis.  March  3,  '65. 
Perkins,  James  M.,  38;  Aug.  23,  '64,  Macedon;  Aug.  29,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Perry,  Dixon,  44;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Scipio;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June  27,  '65, 

2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Perry,  Myron  H.,  18;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.  as 

Musician  July  6,  '65. 
Pickens,  Warren  R.,  19;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Dec. 

16,  '64  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Powell,  William,  18;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  d.  Dec.  10,  '64, 

Winchester,  Va. 
Richardson,  Henry  H.,  23;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Camillus;  Sept.  6, 1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Rigby,  John,  22;  Aug.  26,  '64,  Lockport;  Sept.  1;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Riggs,  Burritt,  32;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Venice;  Jan.  8,  '64;  d.  Aug.  4, 

'64,  Baltimore,  of  wounds  received  July  9  at  Monocacy. 
Robinson,  John,  44;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Caneadea;  trans.  June  27,  '65, 

2d  N.  Y.  H,  A.;  Vet.  Co.  I,  27th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Rogers,  Adelbert,  22;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Moravia;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Nov. 

23,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Ross,  James,  38;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Scipio;  Jan.  4;  wd.  Cold  Harbor; 

trans,  as  Corp.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Royce,  Frank  L.,  19;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Moravia;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  May 

16,  '64;  Sergt,  Sept.  1,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Ryckman,  David,  40;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  dis. 

June  12,  '65,  hospital. 
Scott,  Wesley,  35;  Aug.  28,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  19,  '65, 

hospital. 
Seeley,  Seth  M.,  33;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Geddes;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 


COMPANY    E.  513 

Shaw,  John  H.,  17;  Dec.  3,  '63,  Moravia;  Dec.  3,  in  Co.  L;  trans. 

to  E,  Feb.  26,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Shaw,  Stephen,  21;  Sept.  21,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Sherman,  Alexander,  40;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis. 

June  15,  '65. 
Sherman,  James,  21;  Dec.  1,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  9,  in  Co.  L;  trans. 

to  E,  Feb.  26,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Sherman,  Joseph,  18;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Groton;  Dec.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Sherman,  Rufus,  18;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Auburn;  Jan.  4,  '64;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Shevalier,  John,  21;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Fleming;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Dec. 

13,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6, '65. 

Shorey,  John,  28;  Dec.  12,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  15,  in  Co.  L;  trans, 
to  Co.  E,  no  date;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Shorkley,  Pardon  T.,  28;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 
M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Slade,  Reuben,  18;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Sept.  13, 
'64.  (This  on  Albany  records;  good  authority  says  he  de 
serted  in  Sept.,  '62.) 

Smith,  Emory,  45;  Feb.  10,  '64,  Geddes;  Feb.  10;  d.  July  23,  '64, 
from  wounds,  hospital,  New  York  harbor. 

Smith,  Francis,  19;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Fleming;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 
6,  '65. 

Smith,  James,  26;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Aurelius;  Sept.  8;  deserted  Sept. 

14,  '62. 

Smith,  John  F.,  22;  Sept.  11,  '64,  Skaneateles;  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Smith,  Ralph,  18;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  deserted  Oct. 

27,  '62. 
Snow,  Henry,  38;  Aug.  26,  '64,  Sennett;  Aug.  26,  1  year;  dis. 

July  19,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester. 
Snow,  William,  44;  Aug.  17,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Aug.  24,  1  year; 

d.  Oct.  20,  '64,  Martinsburg,  from  wounds  received  Oct.  19 

at  Cedar  Creek. 
Stephens,  Isaac,  37;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Ovid;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Stoddard,    Simeon,  27;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Moravia;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  6,  '64;  d.  July  3,  '64,  City  Point. 
Strong,  Philip,  33;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8,  Sergt;  dis. 

May  16,  '64. 
Suddick,  Richard,  33;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Caneadea;  Dec.  30;  wd.  April 

2,  '65,  Petersburg;  dis.  July  22,  '65. 
Swift,  Edward  B.,  21;  Jan.  14,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  19;  d.  Aug. 

18,  '64,  Frederick,  Md. 
Tallman,  Frank,  18;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Scipio;  Jan.  2;  prisoner  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  dis.  June  26,  '64,  hospital,  Annapolis. 
Tallman,  Frederick  A.,  18;  Sept.  3,  '62,  Moravia;  Sept.  8,  Musi 
cian;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
33 


514  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Tallman,  Thomas  C.,  20;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  Bugler, 

Feb.  14,  '63;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Tanner,  George  L.,  28;  Jan.  4,  '64,,  Niles;  Jan.  4;  dis.  May  18, 

'65,  hospital. 
Terwilliger,  Ira,  22;  Aug.  25,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  2;  deserted 

April  25,  '65;  Vet.  Co.  E,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Thoma,  Fredolin,  39;  Jan.  14,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  15;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  Aug.  28,  '65,  hospital,  Baltimore. 
Thompson,  George,  18;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Montezuma;  Dec.  30;  dis. 

July  19,  '65. 
Thompson,  Orson,  21;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  wd. 

Cold  Harbor;  dis.  May  6,  '65,  hospital. 
Thorn,  Joseph,  21;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April  7, 

'63;  dis.  Aug.  11,  '63. 
Tibbetts,  George  W.,  22;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  6,  '64;  Sergt,  Jan.  17,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Tibbetts,  Lansing,  18;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Tidd,  John  M.,  26;  Aug.  16,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  Artificer,  March 

15,  '65  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Tidd,  Milton,  24;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Tyre;  Dec.  24;  dis.  May  26,  '65, 

hospital. 

Tifft,  John,  24;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Venice;  Sept.  8,  1st  Sergt.;  pro 
moted  2d  Lieut. 
Turner,  John  M.,  38;  Aug.  23,  '64,  Macedon;  Aug.  29,  1  year; 

dis.  May  31,  '65,  hospital. 
Valentine,  Nelson,  18;  Aug.  17,  '64,  no  place  given,  joined  as 

substitute;  d.  Jan.  12,  '65,  in  the  field. 
Van  Camp,  Kansom,  18;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Sept.  1,  1 

year;  dis.  May  15,  '65. 
Vandergrief,  George,  33;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Caneadea;  Dec.  30;  dis. 

May  13,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia;  Vet.  Co.  F,  6th  Ohio 

Vols. 

Van  Liew,  John,  31;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Musi 
cian  in  Regimental  Band,  April  4,  '63;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Van  Marter,  Abram,  22;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Ledyard;  Jan.  4,  '64;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Veeder,  Peter,  25;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Fleming;  Jan.  4,  '64;  k.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy. 
Vincent,  John  B.,  29;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Conesus;  Sept.  7,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Waldron,  David,  35;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Walker,  John  H.,  39;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Dec.  10, 

'63. 
Warwick,  Kobert,  34;  Aug.  17,  '62,  Fleming;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.; 

dis.  Jan.  3,  '64. 
Waters,  James,  21;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Montezuma;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 


COMPANY    F.  515 

Westfall,  Christopher,  21;  Sept.  5,  64,  Lyons;  Sept.  5,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
White,  George  A.,  18;  Feb.  16,  '64,  Montezuma;  Feb.  16;  dis. 

June  19,  '65,  hospital. 
Whitfield,  Eben,  27;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Scipio;  Sept.  8;  dis.  April 

3,  '63. 
Wilkinson,  Charles,  31;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Fleming;  Sept.  8, Wagoner; 

d.  Oct.  3,  '63,  Fort  Mansfield. 
Williams,  George,  28;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Montezuma;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  6,  '64;  d.  Aug.  4,  '64,  Frederick,  Md.,  from  wounds 

received  July  9  at  Monocacy. 
Wilson,  Oliver  A.,  18;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Caneadea;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wright,  Darwin  F.,  25;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Moravia;  Sept.  8;  d.  Jan. 

11,  '63,  Camp  Morris. 
Wright,  John  P.,  32;  Nov.  6,  '63,  Hastings;  Nov.  12;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  trans.  Oct.  25,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Weight,  Richard  D.,  27;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Moravia;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Wyckoff,  Henry  G.,  23;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Fleming;  Sept.  8;  trans. 

April  18,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 

Woodmansee,  Nathan,  20;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Groton;  Jan.  4;  wd.  Mo 
nocacy;  dis.  April  27,  '65;  Vet.  76th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Woodward,  Alonzo,  42;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  18;  no  M.  O. 
York,  Edward  M.,  30;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Niles;  Jan.  4,  '64;  k.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy. 

COMPANY  F. 

Auburn  and  the  near-by  towns  contributed  the  majority  of 
the  men  for  Company  F.  Captain  Burgess  was  the  first  moving 
spirit,  and  a  large  part  of  the  enlistments  were  in  the  city ;  but 
Lieutenants  Bacon  and  Lamoreaux  did  their  part  also,  and  the 
company  grew  between  July  30th  and  September  2d,  though  the 
one  man  who  enlisted  on  the  latter  day  did  not  pass,  and  the 
July  enrollments  were  George  W.  Swift  of  Auburn  and  Emmet 
Stafford  of  Port  Byron,  both  of  whom  subsequently  became 
lieutenants. 

In  F,  there  was  a  small  contingent,  eight  or  nine  men,  who 
came  up  from  Lansing  in  Tompkins  county,  thus  breaking  the 
Cayuga  monotony.  Among  these  recruits  were  some  of  the  best 
men  in  the  company,  and  all  gave  good  accounts  of  themselves. 

CAPTAINS. 

Charles  Burgess,  43;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Captain; 

rank  from  Aug.  24;  promoted  Major. 
Sullivan  B.  Lamoreaux,  from  1st  Lieut.,  May  21,  '64;  promoted 

Major. 


516  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

FIRST  LIEUTENANTS. 

George  W.  Bacon,  30;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  1st  Lieut.; 

rank  from  Aug.  24;  promoted  Captain  Co.  D. 
Sullivan  B.  Lamoreaux,  from  2d  Lieut.,  July  31,  '63;  promoted 

Captain. 
Weston  E.  Allen,  from  2d  Lieut,  Feb.  24,  '64;  rank  from  Jan. 

8;  dismissed  Dec.  17,  '64. 
Charles  W.  Hough,  from  2d  Lieut.  Co.  B;  rank  from  April  4,  '64; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  M.  O.  finally  as  Captain 

Co.  L. 
Emmett  Stafford,  from  2d  Lieut,  Dec.  15,  '64;  rank  from  Oct.  3; 

dismissed  March  27,  '65. 
Benjamin  Yard,  from  2d  Lieut.  Co.  I,  Nov.  29,  '64;  trans,  back 

to  Co.  I  June  26,  '65. 
William  H.  Firth,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Dec.  18,  '64;  rank  from  Nov. 

28;  dis.  Feb.  19,  '65. 
George  W.  Swift,  from  Co.  K,  May  4,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

SECOND   LIEUTENANTS. 

Sullivan  B.  Lamoreaux,  21;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  2d 

Lieut.;  rank  from  Aug.  24;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Weston  E.  Allen,  from  1st  Sergt,  Aug.  22,  '63;  rank  from  July 

31;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Emmett  Stafford,  from  Corp.,  Aug.  22,  '63;  rank  from  Aug.  1; 

promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Albert  B.  Norton,  from  Sergt.,  Feb.  12,  '64;  rank  from  Jan.  8; 

resigned  March  12,  '64. 
Charles  P.  Patterson,  from  Co.  B,  Feb.  23,  '64;  rank  from  Feb. 

3;  wd.  Cold  Harbor;  resigned  Sept.  15,  '64. 
William  H.  Firth,  from  Sergt.,  July  10,  '64;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
David  H.  Stone,  from  1st  Sergt.,  Dec.  15,  '64;  rank  from  Sept. 

15;  k.  Jan.  14,  '65,  Petersburg. 
Henry  Rowland,  from  llth  N.  Y.  Battery,  Jan.  4,  '65;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65.    He  enlisted,  age  30,  Aug/7,  '62,  Albany;  Corpv 

Oct.  19,  '64 ;  promoted  as  above. 

NON-COMMISSIONED  OFFICERS  AND  PRIVATES. 

Alexander,  Rice,  38;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Pompey;  Jan.  5;  dis.  June  29, 

'65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Alfreds,  Henry,  21;  March  4,  '63,  Auburn;  March  8;  trans.  June 

27, '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Allen,  Dwight,  19;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Groton;  Dec.  25;  k.  June  1,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor. 
Allen,  Henry,  21 ;  June  2,  '63,  Galen ;  June  3 ;  trans.  June  27,  '65, 

2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Allen,  Titus,  20;  June  16,  '63,  Auburn;  Aug.  5;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  C,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 


COMPANY   F. 

Capt.  S.  B.  Lamoreaux,  Capt.  Chas.  Burgess,  1st  Lieut.  Wm.  H.  Firth, 

later  Major  and  Brev't  Lt.  Colonel.  later  Major. 

George  Swart,  Drum  Major.     1st  Lieut.  L.  H.  Bigelow  (K).    2nd  Lieut.  D.  H.  Stone. 
Wilmer  Stout.  Alpheus  K.  Long.          Wesley  Niblock. 


COMPANY    F.  517 

Allen,  Weston  E.,  23;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Genoa;  Sept.  8,  1st  Sergt; 

promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Allen,  William,  44;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  trans.  Feb. 

19,  '64,  V.  B.  C. 
Armstrong,  Alexander,  22;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  25;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Armstrong,  William,  18;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Auburn;  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Ashmore,  Samuel,  18;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Ashton,  John  R.,  22;  July  6,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  7;  dis.  Jan. 

25,  '64. 

Austen,  John,  33;  Sept.  10,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  Sept.  12;  deserted 

Sept.  20,  '63. 
Barnard,  Franklin  D.,  21;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Sennett;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 

Bateman,  Charles  E.,  21;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  5;  no  M.  O. 
Bayes,  James,  22;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Niles;  Sept.  8;  k.  Oct.  19,  '64, 

Cedar  Creek. 
Bennett,  George  W.,  24;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  21;  dis.  May 

26,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 

Bennett,  James  H.,  27;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  wd. 

June,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  June  8,  '65,  hospital,  York,  Pa. 
Bennett,  William,  22;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  7, 

'65,  Baltimore. 
Bergin,  Theodore,  22;  Jan.  4,  '64,  3d  Dist.  N.  Y.;  deserted  Feb. 

5,  '64. 

Bigelow,  Lendell  H.,  24;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  1st 
Sergt.,  date  not  given;  promoted  1st  Lieut.  Co.  K. 

Blake,  Jacob,  33;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Boardman,  Charles,  18;  July  29,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  29;  de 
serted  Aug.  20,  '63. 

Bolden,  Henry,  29;  July  22,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  23;  deserted 
as  Corporal  June  6,  '64. 

Boscoe,  William,  29;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 

Bostler,  Conrad,  22;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Niles;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Boyd,  Patrick,  32;  July  18,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  18;  deserted 

July  20,  '64. 
Boyd,  Thomas,  21;  July  10,  '63,  Auburn;  Aug.  5;  deserted  May 

8,  '64. 

Bradley,  Josiah,  vide  Joseph  Frayer. 
Branch,  Caleb  A.,  30;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb. 

17,  '63,  hospital,  Philadelphia. 
Brian,  John,  31;  July  5,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  6;  deserted  Aug. 

23,  '63. 
Britton,  George,  22;  Feb.  8,  '64,  Portage;  Feb.  12;  d.  March  1, 

'65,  Washington. 


518  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Britton,  Gordon,  21;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Dec. 

6,  '64;  d.  Jan.  19,  '65,  in  the  field. 

Brown,  Daniel  E.,  18;  Jan.  27,  '64,  Hamilton;  Jan.  27;  dis.  June 

16,  '65.  Washington. 
Brown,  John,  42;  July  14,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  18;  deserted 

March  29,  '64. 
Buff,  Edwin,  22;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Smyrna;  Jan.  11;  dis.  May  18,  '65, 

Baltimore. 
Burt,  John,  25;  July  24,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  25;  deserted 

Aug.  22,  '64. 
Carolin,  Patrick,  30;  Oct.  1,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  trans,  as  Bugler 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  borne  also  as  Carren;  Vet. 
Catlin,  Cecil,  18;  Aug.  10,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  d.  April  19,  '65, 

Washington. 
Catlin,  Michael,  28;  July  13,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  24;  dis.  July 

14,  '65,  Syracuse. 
Catlin,  Squire  B.,  44;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Wagoner; 

trans.  Jan.  10,  '65,  V.  B.  C. 
Chase,  Horace  W.,  27;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  July  1,  '63;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Close,  Charles,  21;  Feb.  16,  '64,  Groton;  Feb.  16;  Corp.,  Jan.  24, 

'65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  later  M.  O.  as  Sergt. 
Clow,  George  E.,  33;  Aug.  28,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8;  Sergt.,  April 

7,  '63;  promoted  2d  Lieut.  Co.  K. 

Colernan,  Lyman,  30;  Aug.  25,  '63,  Auburn;  Sept.  10;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Collin,  Michael,  28;  July  13,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  dis.  July  14,  '65. 
Cooper,  Stephen  H.,  32;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Georgetown;  dis.  April  10, 

'65?  Washington. 
Cowan,  Henry  W.,  18;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis  Nov. 

25,  '62. 
Cowden,  Charles,  18;  July  20,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cronk,  James  A.,  34;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Crumb/ Arthur  S.,  18;  April  14,  '64,  Afton;  April  15;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Curley,  John,  35;  July  23,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  25;  deserted 

July  21,  '64. 
Curtis,  William,  27;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Sennett;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Nov. 

3,  '64;  Sergt,  June  21,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Darrow,  Peter,  19;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Niles;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  March  6, 

'65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Davis,  William  L.,  27;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Feb. 

22,  '65;  dis.  May  31,  '65,  Washington. 
Deering,  Henry,  43;  July  31,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  31;  dis. 

May  11,  '64. 
Dempsey,  David,  30;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  28, 

'65,  hospital,  Portsmouth  Grove,  R.  I. 


COMPANY   F.  519 

Dent,  Thomas,  40;  Jan.  7,  '64,  Phelps;  Feb.  2;  deserted  March 

19,  '65. 
Devoe,  George,  18;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Owasco;  Jan.  7;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Dewitt,  Henry,  19;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Niles;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Dibble,  Thomas,  22;  July  14,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  18;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Dinsrnan,  Samuel,  44;  July  25,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Donegan,  James  O.,  19;  July  21,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  24;  de 
serted  July  19,  '64. 
Donnelly,  Francis,  44;  July  8,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  9;  deserted 

April  2,  '64. 
Doyle,  James,  18;  Aug.  16,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Duval,  Albert  J.,  21;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Hornby;  Jan.  1;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Easton,  Aaron  M.,  35;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Junius;  Dec.  23;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Edgecome,  Albert  J.,  20;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Groton;  Dec.  25;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Veteran. 
Eggleston,  John,  22;  Aug.  16,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  no  record 

after  June  17,  '65,  when  he  was  reported  sick. 
Elliott,  Nathan,  43;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Mentz;  Dec.  21;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Elliott,  Nathan,  Jr.,  18;  Dec.  20,  '63,  Mentz;  Dec.  23;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Emerick,  Peter  W.,  27;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Niles;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Dec. 

17,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Feek,  Howard,  21-  Aug.  13,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  deserted  Oct. 

2,  '62. 
Firth,  William  H.,  26;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.; 

promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Fowler,  Henry,  25;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Francisco,  Charles,  23;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Frayer,  Jay  E.,  18;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Niles;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May  31,  '65, 

hospital,  Rochester. 
Frayer,  Joseph  (Josiah  Bradley),  31;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Auburn;  Jan. 

4,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
French,  Barnard,  29;  March  13,  '63,  Auburn;    March  18;    dis. 

June  16,  '65,  hospital. 
Gifford,  Harrison,  22;  Jan.  29,  '63,  Auburn;  Corp.,  Jan.  21,  '65; 

dis.  June  27,  '65. 
Gillett,  Edson,  22;  Aug.  26,  '64,  Owasco;  Aug.  26,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Gillson,  Amos  E.,  44;  Aug.  3,  '64,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  no  M.  O. 

Doubtless  same  as  Jillson,  Amos  E.,  which  see. 


520  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Gould,  Charles  H.,  18;  Aug.  8,  '62;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Growers,  William,,  21;  Jan.  26,  '63,  Auburn;  March  8;  deserted 

Oct.  31,  '63. 
Greenfield,  Charles  H.,  19;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Niles;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

wd.  April  2,  '65,  Petersburg;  dis.  July  7,  '65. 
Grey,  James,  33;  July  16,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  18;  deserted 

Aug.  12,  '63. 
Guthrie,  William,  18;  Feb.  8,  '64,  Groton;  Corp.,  Jan.  24,  '65; 

Sergt.,  March  20,  '65;  d.  April  16,  '65,  Washington,  from 

wounds  received  April  2  at  Petersburg. 
Hacker,  George  H.,  27;    Aug.  14,  '62,  Sennett;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Hagan,  Patrick,  25;  July  9,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  10;  trans. 

Feb.  19,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Hale,  Chauncey  D.,  27;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Genoa;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Hargan,  Charles,  20;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Lansing;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  May  14,  '65,  Baltimore. 
Hargan,  Mark,  24 ;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lansing ;  Sept.  8,  Corp. ;  d.  Mar. 

3,  '63,  Fort  Mansfield. 
Harper,  William  A.,  35;  July  13,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  18; 

Corp.,  June  18,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Hawkins,  John,  25;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Hills,  Norman  H.,  21;  Jan.  6,  '64,  Norwich;  Jan.  6;  deserted 

June  4,  '64. 
Hilts,  Charles  E.,  18;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Niles;  Sept.  8;  dis.  April  15, 

'64,  Fort  Bayard. 
Hodges,  Henry,  25;  July  14,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  18;  trans. 

Aug.  25,  '63,  to  16th  N.  Y.  Cavalry. 
Hoff,  James,  22;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  29;  dis.  May  18, 

'65,  Washington. 
Holden,  Smith,  19;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Lansing;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Horton,  Francis  M.,  18;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Nov.  3,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Howard,,  Charles,  21;  Jan.  6,  '64,  Norwich;  Jan.  6;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Howard,  William,  18;  Jan.  9,  '64,  Norwich;  Jan.  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hoy,  James  W.,  30;  July  24,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  25;  dis.  May 

31,  '65,  Washington. 
Hudson,  Pitts  O.,  18;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Hunt,  Frederick  E.,  18;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Hyat,  John,  18;  July  24,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  24;  deserted 

Nov.  4,  '64. 

Hyde,  Norman  B.,  20;  Feb.  16,  '64,  Groton;  Feb.  16;  dis.  May 
6,  '65,  hospital,  Philadelphia;  Veteran. 


COMPANY    F.  521 

Ingram,  Jonathan,  44;  July  6,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  6;  trans. 

Feb.  19,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Jackson,  Edward,  35;  July  22,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  23;  trans. 

Aug.  23,  '64,  U.  S.  Navy. 
Jenkins,  Jedediah,  21;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

May  10,  '65. 
Jillson,  Amos  E.,  44;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Dec. 

7,  '63,  Fort  Simmons. 
Johnson,  Hiram  M.,  44;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  trans.  Feb. 

19,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Johnson,  Nelson  R.,  23;  Aug.  28,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May 

12,  '64,  Fort  Richardson. 
Jones,  Byron  M.,  30;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  23,  '64;  Sergt,  May  16,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Jones,  Charles  E.,  24;  Aug.  14,  '63,  Mentz;  Aug.  25;  dis.  May 

31,  '65,  Washington. 
Jones,  H.  Mason,  21;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8;  trans.  Feb. 

19,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Jones,  Thomas,  26;  March  27,  '63,  Auburn;  March  27;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Keen,  Charles,  38;  Aug.  7,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  Aug.  9;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Kellogg,  Martin  V.  B.,  25;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Lansing;  Sept.  8;  de- 

serled  Oct.  12,  '62. 

Kibby,  Frederick,  29;  March  5,  '63,  Mentz;  dis.  May  18,  '63. 
Knapp,  Andrew  J.,  44;  July  13,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  deserted  July 

23,  '63. 

Kniffen,  A.  Edward,  21;  March  26,  '63,  Auburn;  April  1;  de 
serted  March  4,  '64. 
Lampheer,  Moses  B.,  19;  Feb.  16,  '64,  Lansing;  Feb.  16;  trans. 

May  28,  '64,  to  1st  N.  Y.  Ind.  Battery. 

Lander,  John  C.,  22;  July  21,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  23;  de 
serted  March  4,  '64. 
Lane,  John  J.,  28;  Feb.  15,  '64,  Lansing;  Feb.  15;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Larey,  John,  23;  July  20,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  24;  deserted 

Aug.  12,  '63. 
Learn,  Daniel,  28;  Jan.  15,  '64,  Groton;  Jan.  15;  d.  May  11,  '64, 

Washington. 
Learn,  Henry  J.,  19;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  29;  dis.  June 

9,  '65,  Washington. 
Leavenworth,  Lyman  B.,  18;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Hornby;  Dec.  25;  wd. 

Oct.  19,  '64,^ Cedar  Creek;  dis.  June  6,  '65,  Elmira. 
Lewis,  Elias  H.,  18;  Feb.  5,  '64,  Groton;  Feb.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Linehose,  John  E.,  30;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lansing;  Sept.  8;  k.  April 

2,  '65,  Petersburg. 
Lobdell,  Jonathan,  22;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Genoa;  Sept.  9, 1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 


522  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Londerman,  Oliver,  18;  June  3,  '63,  Palmyra;  June  3;  k.  June 

1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor. 
Long,  Alpheus  K.,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Aurelius;  Sept.  8;  dis.  as 

Corp.,  Dec.  14,  '63,  for  promotion    in    7th  U.  S.  Colored 

Troops,  whence  he  was  dis.  Brev.  Capt.;  had  been  wounded 

at  Fort  Bayard  by  explosion  of  shell. 
Lowe,  John  F.,  23;  March  31,  '63,  Auburn;  March  31;  trans.  Oct. 

1,  '63,  to  3d  N.  Y.  Battery. 

McBride,  Alexander,  44;  July  10,  '63,  Washington;  July  10; 
deserted  April  4,  '64. 

McCubbins,  Joseph,  23;  July  9,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  9;  d. 
April  11,  '65,  City  Point,  of  wounds  received  April  2  at 
Petersburg. 

McGuire,  Owen,  43;  July  20,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  28;  trans, 
as  Wagoner,  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

McLaughlin,  Owen,  42;  July  23,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  25;  pris 
oner  July  24,  '64;  d.  Libby  prison,  date  unknown. 

McNamara,  John,  37;  July  21,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  28;  de 
serted  Sept.  22,  '63. 

Marsh,  Frederick,  35;  Sept.  2,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8;  deserted  July 

18,  '63. 

Marsh,  George  W.,  30;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8;  Artificer, 

July  1,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Martin,  William,  40;  July  7,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  9;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Mayhew,  William  C.,  29;  Feb.  15,  '64,  Granby;  Feb.  16;  trans. 

Nov.  14,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Merritt,  Charles  F.,  21;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Genoa;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Merritt,  Nathaniel  A.,  25;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Genoa;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Aug.  15,  '63;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Miller,  Charles,  44;  July  8,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  9;  trans.  Feb. 

19,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 

Miller,  Charles  H.,  21;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Genoa;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Miller,  John,  44;  July  7,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  9;  deserted 

May  20,  '64. 
Minogue,  Peter,  33;  March  9,  '63,  Auburn;  March  9;  dis.  June 

2,  '65,  Philadelphia. 

Mix,  Cranson,  20;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Groton;  Jan.  4;  d.  June  12,  '64, 

Alexandria. 
Moody,  William  F.,  32;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

May  15,  '63. 
Murphy,  James,  21;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Murphy,  Leary;  27;  July  14,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  18;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Murray,  John,  27;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Corning;  Dec.  31;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


COMPANY    F.  523 

Myers,  William  H.,  29;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Lansing;  Dec.  24;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Nash,  Ephraim  A.,  32;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Aug. 

4,  '63. 
Newton,  Albert  D.,  21;  Jan.  6,  '64,  Norwich;  Jan.  6;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Niblock,  Wesley,  18;  Aug.  11,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  July  1, 

'64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Nicodemus,  Andrew,  18;  July  6,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  7;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Nobles,  John,  30;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May  16,  '64. 
North,  Crandall  J.,  18;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Mar. 

21,  '64;  Sergt.,  March  7,  '65;  wd.  April  2,  '65,  Petersburg; 
dis.  June  14,  '65,  Elmira. 

Northrop,  Martin  V.  B.,  22;  Jan.  20,  '64,  Norwich;  Jan.  20,  '64; 

dis.  May  17,  '65,  Washington. 
Norton,  Albert  B.,  25;  July  30,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.; 

promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Nugent,  Daniel,  21;  March  18,  '63,  Auburn;  March  18;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

O'Brien,  John,  30;  March  18,  '63,  Auburn;  dis.  April  21,  '63. 
O'Connor,  Martin,  24;  July  25,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  25;  de-^ 

serted  Oct.  13,  '63. 
Ogden,  Theodore,  18;  Aug.  12,  '64,  Dryden;  Aug.  12,  1  year; 

d.  Oct.  29,  '64,  of  wounds  received  at  Cedar  Creek. 
Osborn,  Horace,  18;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Otis,  James,  19;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Scriba;  Jan.  5;  wd.  April  2,  '65, 

Petersburg;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Otis,  Michael,  20;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Scriba;  Jan.  4;  wd.  Cedar  Creek; 

Corp.,  March  20,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Palmer,  Henry,  27;  July  9,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  10;  dis.  Jan. 

22,  '64,  Fort  Simmons. 

Parks,  John  H.,  20;  Feb.  15,  '64,  Portage;  Feb.  16;  d.  May  17, 

'64,  Washington. 
Parr,  Henry,  30;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Auburn;  Jan.  7,  '64;  dis.  May  12, 

'65,  Philadelphia. 
Peters,  Matthias,  44;  July  29,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  dis.  May  17,  '65, 

Washington. 
Pitcher,  David,  40;  Aug.  27,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8;  Artificer,  Aug. 

23, '63;M.O.,  July  6, '65. 
Pitcher,  Lewis  W.,  18;  March  28,  '64,  Washington;  March  29; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Plattenburg,  Jacob,  42;    Aug.  25,  '62,  Auburn;    Sept.  8;    de 
serted  Sept.  11,  '62. 
Porter,  James  A.,  40;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  16, 

'65,  Washington. 
Powell,  Lewis,  36;  July  20,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  23;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


524  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Pym,  Joseph,  25;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Sergt., 

Aug.  24,  '63;  1st  Sergt.,  June  8,  '65;  wd.  June  — ,  '64,  Cold 

Harbor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Quade,  John,  33;  July  20,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  23;  deserted 

June  5,  '64. 
Harden,  James,  22;  July  9,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Remington,  Washington  B.,  21;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Hornby;  Jan.  7; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Reynolds,  John  W.,  36;  July  15,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  15;  trans. 

April  21,  '64,  to  U.  S.  Navy. 
Rich,  William  B.,  23;  March  3,  '63,  Mentz;  March  3;  dis.  Jane 

15,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Ridley,  Thomas,  37;  Jan.  29,  '64,  Canandaigua;  Jan.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Riley,  Anthony,  18;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  k.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Riley,  Charles  E.,  44;  Dec.  20,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  31;  d.  March 

20,  '65,  City  Point,  Va. 
Roberts,  David,  25;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  Ov 

July  6,  '65. 

Runyan,  Chauncey  A.,  18;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Aurelius;  Sept.  8,  Musi 
cian;  wd.  May  5,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  trans.  Feb.  19,  '64,  V. 

R,  C. 
Rush,  John,  22;  Aug.  8,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  Aug.  8;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  B,  16th  Va.  Vols. 
Rynders,  Charles  F.,  25;  Nov.  10,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  6;  Corp., 

March  7,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  E, 

3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Schoemaker,  Isaac,  23;  Sept.  1,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  Sept.  4;  d. 

April  4,  '65,  from  wounds  received  April  2  at  Petersburg. 
Schoonrnaker,  Eli,  34;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Mentz;   Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Seacor,  William  H.,  44;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Hornby;  Dec.  25;  d.  July 

8,  '64,  of  wounds  received  June  1  at  Cold  Harbor. 
Shergur,  Charles  L.,  20;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lansing;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

July  27,  '63;  Sergt.,  Dec.  16,  '64;  1st  Sergt.,  March  20,  '65; 

wd.  April  6,  '65,  Sailor's  Creek;  dis.  June  7,  '65,  hospital 

Baltimore,  Brevet  2d  Lieut. 
Sincerbeaux,  Charles,  18;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Scipio;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2dN.  Y.  H.  A. 
Sincerbeaux,  Edward  M.,  22;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Niles;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

July  27,  '63;  regimental  Q.  M.  Sergt.,  April  20,  '64;  M.  O.. 

July  6,  '65. 
Sincerbeaux,  Ira,  18;  July  30,  '63,  Scipio;  Aug.  25;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Sincerbeaux,  Leonard,  18;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Oct.  16,  '64;  Sergt.,  Feb.  23,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Smith,  Edward,  18;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  d.  March  11, 

'64,  Fort  Mansfield. 


COMPANY    F.  525 

Smith,,  Joseph,  22;  July  3,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  6;  prisoner, 

no  data;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Smith,  Randall  A.,  18;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Groton;  Dec.  14;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Snyder,  John  G.,  36;  March  19,  '63,  Auburn;  dis.  April  21,  '63. 
Stafford,  Emniett,  34;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  pro 
moted  2d  Lieut. 
Starkey,  Lewis,  22;  Aug.  15,  '64,  Groton;  Aug.  15,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Stearns,  George  H.,  23;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Sennett;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Steih,  Daniel,  20;  Feb.  22,  '64,  Groveland;  Feb.  25;  dis.  June  20, 

'65,  Philadelphia. 
Stevens,  Moses  B.,  45 ;  June  12,  '63,  Galen ;  June  23 ;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  K,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Steward,  John,  41;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Dec.  6, 

'63,  Fort  Simmons. 
Stone,  David  H.,  26;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  1st 

Sergt,  no  date;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Stout,  George  H.,  23;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Genoa;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  dis. 

June  9,  '65,  Baltimore. 
Stout,  Wilmer,  21;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Niles;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Dec.  17, 

'63;  Sergt.,  March  6,  '65;  wd.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis. 

May  31,  '65,  Philadelphia. 
Strang,  George  F.,  21;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  June 

8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Swart,  Aaron  V.,  21;  Aug.  27,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Swart,  Alexander,  29;  Aug.  27,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Swart,  George,  18;  Aug.  4, '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Musician;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Swartout,  Clayton,  19;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Hornby;  Dec.  25;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Swift,  George  W.,  23;  July  30,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  '62,  Sergt.; 

promoted  2d  Leiut.  Co.  K. 
Talbert,  James  D.,  38;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Aurelius;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Taylor,  George  W.,  21;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Mies;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Dec. 

23,  '63;  Sergt,  Dec.  17,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Taylor,  Oscar  E.,  19;  Jan.  6,  '64,  Norwich;  Jan.  6;  dis.  May  29, 

'65,  Philadelphia. 
Teeter,  Benjamin,  18;  Feb.  8,  '64,  Groton;  Feb.  8;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Teeter,  Cicero,  29;  Aug.  19,  '64,  Dryden;  Aug.  19,  1  year;  wd. 

Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  June  5,  '65,  Elmira.' 
Teeter,  Edwin  H.,  20;  Aug.  11,  '64,  Dryden;  Aug.  11,  1  year; 

dis.  June  10,  '65,  Elmira. 
Teeter,  Lewis,  20;  Feb.  15,  '64,  Groton;  Feb.  15;  k.  April  2,  '65, 

Petersburg. 


526  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Tenny,  Amos,  39;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Marcellus;  Jan.  1;  deserted  Nov. 

16,  '64. 

Thornton,  Charles,  25;  Jan.  2,  '64,  3d  N.  Y.  Dist;  Jan.  2;  de 
serted  Feb.  5,  '64. 
Tichnor,  George,  21;  Feb.  11,  '64,  Lansing;  Feb.  11;  d.  Oct.  22, 

'64,  from  wounds  received  Oct.  19  at  Cedar  Creek. 
Tower,  Philo,  44;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb.  8,  '64, 

Fort  Simmons. 
Turner,  William  H.,  18;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Genoa;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Sept.  9,  '63;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Tuttle,  Frank  J.,  18;  Jan.  19,  '64,  Pharsalia;  Jan.  19;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Waldo,  Lyman  M.,  34;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  k.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Waldron,  Lyman,  44;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  9, 

'65,  Philadelphia. 
Ware,  Clarence,  18;  May  18,  '63,  Auburn;  June  3;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Ware,  William,  44;  Feb.  9,  '63,  Auburn;  March  5;  dis.  May  15, 

'65. 
Watts,  Thomas,  38;  July  13,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  deserted  the  next 

day. 
Weaver,  Melvin,  18;  Feb.  15,  '64,  Lansing;  Feb.  15;  deserted 

Nov.  4,  '64, 

West,  Oren,  18;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Lansing;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Wheeler,  Amos,  18;  May  23,  '63,  Galen;  June  3;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wheeler,  James,  33;  July  24,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  deserted  Sept. 

8,  '63. 

Wheeler,  Merritt,  44;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
White,  Elisha,  18;  Jan.  30,  '63,  Auburn;  March  5;  Corp.,  April 

9,  '64,  dis.  July  13,  '65. 

Wiggins,  Robert,  44;  Sept.  11,  '62,  Auburn;  refused  to  muster 

in;  dis.  Nov.  12,  '62. 
Wilcox,  Edward  H.,  26;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May 

2,  '63,  hospital,  Washington. 
Wilder,  Oscar,  26;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  5;  trans,  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Willis,  George,  19;  Feb.  11,  '64,  Lansing;  Feb.  11;  trans.  June 

27, '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Willis,  James,  22;  Feb.  11,  '64,  Lansing;  Feb.  11;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wilson,  Nelson,  19;  Feb.  15,  '64,  Ithaca;  Feb.  15;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wilson,  Philip  R.,  19;  March  6,  '63,  Auburn;  March  8;  wd.  Fort 

Bayard,  '64;  trans.  Feb.  19,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Wolcott,  George  W.,  19;  Jan.  6,  '64,  Norwich;  Jan.  6;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wood,  Jacob,  24;  July  8,  '63,  Fort  Bayard;  July  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


COMPANY    G.  527 

COMPANY  G. 

With  one  or  two  exceptions  Company  G  came  from  what  was, 
up  to  1826,  the  old  town  of  Wolcott,  i.  e.,  the  towns  of  Huron, 
Wolcott,  Butler,  and  Rose,  with  the  storm  centre  in  Wolcott. 
The  excitement  incident  to  the  raising  of  Company  A  did  not 
subside,  but  continued  to  increase  till  it  appeared  that  another 
company  must  be  raised,  and  common  choice  selected  William 
Wood  of  Westbury  as  the  leader.  This  post  office  is  in  Butler 
in  part,  and  the  captain  rated  from  that  town.  First  Lieutenant 
Hawley  was  from  Wolcott,  and  2d  Lieutenant  Woodward  was 
a  Rose  man. 

The  company  was  raised  in  about  two  weeks'  time,  the  date 
August  19th  appearing  most  frequently  in  the  lists.  In  these 
early  rolls  just  one  name  is  found  as  from  Savannah,  and  one 
from  Sterling  in  Cayuga  county. 

CAPTAINS. 

William  Wood,  32;  Aug.  24,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  rank  from 

Aug.  24;  promoted  Major. 
Daniel  B.  Harmon,  from  Co.  H,  Sept.  28,  '64;  rank  from  June 

28;  dis.  Nov.  12,  '64. 
Henry  J.  Rhodes,  from  1st  Lieut.,  Feb.  18,  '65 ;  rank  from  Nov. 

12,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65,  Brevet  Major,  U.  S.  Vols. 

FIRST  LIEUTENANTS. 

William  Hawley,  42;  Aug.  24,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  1st  Lieut.; 

rank  from  Aug.  24;  promoted  Captain  Co.  E. 
John  S.  McMaster,  from  1st  Sergt,  Co.  K,  May  17,  '64;  rank 

from  March  17;  dis.  March  25,  '65;  commissioned  Captain 

Feb.  18,  '65 ;  not  mustered. 
Henry  J.  Rhodes,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Nov.  30,  '64;  rank  from  Nov. 

14;  wd.  March  25,  '65;  promoted  Captain. 

SECOND   LIEUTENANTS. 

Seymour  Woodward,  24;  Aug.  24,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  rank  from 

Aug.  24 ;  dis.  Feb.  23, '64. 
Henry  J.  Rhodes,  from  Co.  A,  March  30,  '64;  rank  from  March 

1 ;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Philip  Sturge,  from  Sergt.  Co.  K,  March  14,  '64;  trans,  back  to 

Co.  K. 
Stillman  J.  Grandy,  from  1st  Sergt,  April  4,  '64;  dis.  Nov.  12, 

'64. 
Arthur  W.  Marshall,  Nov.  14,  '64,  from  Co.  E;  trans,  to  Co.  B, 

Dec.  30,  '64. 
Ezra  H.  Calkins,  from  Corp.,  Jan.  15,  '65;  rank  from  Nov.  26, 

'64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Jefferson  T.  Chaddock,  from  Sergt.,  March  2,  '65;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 


528  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

NON-COMMISSIONED  OFFICERS  AND  PRIVATES. 

Abbey,  William,  37;  Dec,  24,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  24;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Abies,  William  E.,  18;  Dec.  11,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  31;  d.  July  11, 

'64,  Washington. 
Adams,  James  E.,  26;  Feb.  16,  '64,  Binghamton;  Feb.  28;  Corp., 

April  17,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Ahern,  Matthew,  23;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Albany;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Alexander,  William,  32;  Feb.  16,  '64,  Newfield;  Feb.  16;  d.  Feb. 

20,  '65,  Washington. 
Allpaugh,  William  M.,  20;  Feb.  15,  '64,  Candor;  Feb.  15;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Angle,  Lathrop,  18;  Dec.  15,  '63,  Salina;  Dec.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Antis,  James,  Jr.,  18;  Dec.  27,  '63,  Sullivan;  Dec.  27;  dis.  Aug. 

10,  '65,  New  York. 
Bachman,  James  M.,  24;  Dec.  15,  '63,  Seneca  Falls;  Dec.  16;  dis. 

June  21,  '65,  Washington. 
Baggerly.  Peter,  21;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Savannah;  Dec.  28;  wd.  March 

25,  '65,  Petersburg;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bailey,  Frederick  H.,  20;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis. 

Feb.  13,  '64. 
Balch.  Elon  G.,  37;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Galen;  Jan.  4,  '64;  k.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek;  had  served  in  67th  Penn.  Vols. 
Barber,  Perry  S.,  35;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Hornellsville;  Jan.  4;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Barker,  Charles  H.,  18;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Sodus;  Dec.  29;  prisoner- 
Dec.  30,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Barnard,  John  H.,  20;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Auburn;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Barnes,  Abram  T.,  21;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  28;  wd.  April 

6,  '65,  Sailor's  Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Becker,  David  D.,  23;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  3;  promoted 

2d  Lieut.  Co.  I;  he  had  served  in  the  3d  N.  Y.  Artillery. 
Bell,  Alfred  J.,  25;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Sodus;  Dec.  19;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bell,  Alfred  W.,  28;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  4,  1  year;  dis. 

June  16,  '65,  Washington. 
Bell,  Charles  L.,  23;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Sodus;  Dec.  29;  dis.  May  15, 

'65,  Washington. 
Bennett,  Harvey,  43;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Galen;  Jan.  5;  d.  July  27,  '65, 

Washington. 
Bennett,  Joseph,  22:  Nov.  23,  '64,  New  York;  Nov.  23,  '64;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Billhardt,  Charles,  24;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  29:  dis.  May 

15,  '65. 
Billhardt,  Edward,  29;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  29;  dis.  Aug. 

6,  '65. 


COMPANY   G.  529 

Blaisdell,  William  L,,  1.8;  Feb.  24,  '64,  Savannah;  March  1; 

Corp.,  May  31,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Boyd,  James,  21;  Dec.  11,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  31;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Brewster,  Lafayette,  22;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  trans. 

April  18,  '64.  V.  R.  0. 
Brink,  Harvey  C.,  18;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  30;  d.  July  14, 

'64,  Washington. 
Bristol,  Silas  M.,  37;  Feb.  15,  '64,  Candor;  Feb.  16;  dis.  May  31, 

'65,  Philadelphia. 
Brown,  Charles  A.,  29;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8, 1st  Sergt; 

dis.  July  1,  '64,  for  promotion  in  U.  S.  C.  T. 
Brown,  John,  20;  March  31,  '64,  6th  N.  Y.  Dist;  March  31;  d. 

Dec.  22,  '64,  Philadelphia. 
Bunyea,  Mortimer,  21;  Sept.  30,  '63,  Galen;  Nov.  5;  d.  Aug.  31, 

'64,  Washington. 
Burch,  Jerome,  21;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  3,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Burghdorf,  William,  25;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Victory;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb. 

11,  '64. 
Calkins,  Ensign  L.,  19;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Camillus;  Sept.  3,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Calkins,  Ezra  Hudson,  22;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

July  11,  '64;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Calkins,  John,  19;  Aug.  23,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Nov.  16,  '64; 

wd.  April  2,  '65,  Petersburg;  dis.  June  29,  Philadelphia. 
Calkins,  Warren,  24;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  wd. 

March  25,  '65,  Petersburg;  M.  O.,  July  28,  '65,  Elmira. 
Carrier,  Albert,  21;  Aug.  19,  '62,  W^olcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Carris,  Peter  J.,  28;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  29;  Corp., 

March  26,  '65;  dis.  July  24,  '65. 
Carroll,  Lawrence,  21;  Dec.  12,  '63,  Seneca  Falls;  Dec.  16;  wd. 

March  25,  '64;  dis.  June  16,  '65,  Baltimore. 
Carter,  Jabez,  Jr.,  31;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb. 

11,  '64. 
Carter,  William  WT.,  23;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

July  11,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Castler," Marcus  B.,  19;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Sullivan;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Chaddock,  Jefferson  T.,  18;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Dec.  16,  '62;  Sergt,  April  24,  '64;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Clapp,  Cassius  M.,  18;  Sept.  2,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Clark,  Timothy,  24;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  31;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Clemens,  Chesterfield,  25;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Avon;  Sept.  6,  1  year; 

dis.  June  10,  '65,  Philadelphia. 
Cobb,  Sanford  J.,  38;  Jan.  22,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  22;  dis.  May 

17,  '65,  Washington. 

34 


530  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Conklin,  Gilbert,  20;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Savannah;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

promoted  2d  Lieut,  Go.  G. 
Connell,  John,  32;  Jan.  14,  '64,  Washington;  Jan.  14;  deserted 

April  10,  '64. 
Conway,  Thomas,  40;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  5;  wd.  March 

25,  '65,  Petersburg;  dis.  June  28,  '65,  hospital,  Rochester. 
Cooper,  Levi,  28;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  3, 1  year;  dis.  June 

14,  '65,  York,  Penn. 
Courser,  Moses,  43;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Sterling;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

Sept.  8,  '62. 
Cronk,  George  E.,  19;  July  16,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  16;  deserted 

March  26,  '64. 
Gulliford,  Eugene,  21;  Jan.  3,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Curren,  Jacob,  43;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Conquest;  Sept.  8;  trans.  April 

18,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Dean,  Theodore  S.,  18;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  Artificer, 

April  17,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Delamater,  Charles  G.,  27;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

dis.  Feb.  11,  '64. 
Delong,  John,  30;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  d.  Oct.  15,  '64, 

Winchester,  Va. 
Depew,  John,  32;  Aug.  24,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  24, 

'65,  New  York. 
Devoe,  Hiram,  40;  Aug.  24,  '64,  Albany;  Aug.  24,  1  vear;  M.  G., 

July  6,  '65. 
De  Voe,  John  H.,  16;  Sept.  16,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8,  Musician; 

M.  G.,  July  6,  '65. 
Devoe,  Martin,  27;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Sullivan;  Dec.  22;  dis.  Aug. 

17,  '65. 
Devoe,  Stephen  T.,  40;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.; 

1st  Sergt.,  July  1,  '64;  promoted  Chaplain. 
Dixon,  Abel,  22;  Aug.  24,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  d.  April  29,  '64, 

Washington. 
Doremus,  Spencer,  18;  Dec.  11,  '63,  Rose;  Dec.  29  in  Co.  H; 

trans,  to  G  Feb.  5,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.; 

Veteran. 
Downs,  Charles,  22;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Duell,  Leroy  P.,  18;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Marion;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Dunbar,  Dorus,  28;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb.  25, 

'64. 
Duncan,  Charles,  18;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  G., 

July  6,  '65. 
Earles,  Alpheus.  26;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Aug. 

11,  '63;  Sergt.,  March  3,  '65;  M.  G.,  July  6,  '65. 
Earles,  Daniel,  24;  Aug.  16,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 


John  Calkins.  j.  H.  DeVoe. 

Abram  Wolvin.  Henry  Allen  (F). 

All  of  G  Company,  save  Allen.     From  tintypes  made  at  Meade's  Station,  Petersburg,  March.  1865 


Warren  Calkins. 
Isaac  Grant. 


COMPANY   G.  531 

Earles,  David,  30;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Earles,  Isaac,  22;  Aug.  16,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
English,  John  IX,  37;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Seneca  Falls;  Sept.  5, 1  year; 

dis.  July  12,  '65,  Rochester. 
Eygnor,  Abram,  18;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Oct. 

14,  '64;  Sergt,  May  31,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Eygnor,  Edwin,  21;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Faulkner,  Samuel,  42;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Sodus;  Dec.  29;  k.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Feek,  Nicholas,  44;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Oct.  3, 

'62;  dis.  Feb.  20,  '65. 
Fink,  Jeremiah,  31;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  9, 

'65,  Philadelphia. 
Finout,  James  H.,  35;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Nov. 

13,  '63. 
Fleming,  Ebenezer,  25;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Butler;  Jan.  2,  '64;  Corp., 

Dec.  20,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Foster,  Dennis,  20;  Dec.  7,  '63,  Washington;  Dec.  7;  dis.  June 

20,  '65,  Washington. 
Fowler,  George  W.,  21;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Oct. 

8,  '64. 
Fowler,  Merritt  F.,  25;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8  in  Co.  H; 

trans,  to  G,  Oct.  1,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Fredericks,  William,  27;  Dec.  11,  '63,  Washington;  Dec.  16; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gibson,  Alexander,  41;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  29;  dis.  June 

26,  '65,  Philadelphia. 

Gildersleeve,  George  H.,  18;  Dec.  11,  '63,  Galen;  Jan.  4,  '64; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gildersleeve,  Porter,  19;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Rose;  Jan.  4,  '64;  dis! 

June  29,  '65. 
Grandy.  Lewis  D.,  37;  Sept.  2,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  trans.  April 

18,  1864,  V.  R.  C. 

Grandy,  Stillman  J.,  27;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.; 

1st  Sergt,  July  26,  '63;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Grandy,  William  C.,  20;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis. 

June  29,  '65,  Philadelphia. 
Grant,  Isaac  W.,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Dec. 

6,  '62;  Sergt.,  Aug.  5,  '63;  1st  Sergt.,  Dec.  16,  '64;  wd.  March 

25,  '65  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Grant,  Willis,  35;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  3,  1  year;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  Feb.  20,  '65. 

Gray,  Loren  O.,  33;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May  21, 

'63,  Fort  Mansfield. 
Green,  Rush,  18;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Butler;  Jan.  4,  '64;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


532  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Griswold,  Erastus  A.,  39;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Wolcott;  Jan.  2,  '64;  d. 

Jan.  27,  '65,  Virginia. 
Harper,  Albert,  35;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Savannah;  Jan.  29;  dis.  Oct. 

10,  '64. 

Haven,  James  A.,  38;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hawkins,  William,  40;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Sodus;  Dec.  29;  k.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Henry,  William,  18:  Dec.  30,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  31;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hersey,  Charles  A.,  44;  Dec.  31,  '63.  Wolcott;  Dec.  31;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hill,  Alonzo  D.,  27;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Marion;  Dec.  26;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hill,  Erastus  T.,  36;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  July 

11,  '65,  Rochester. 

Hodges,  Alexander,  31;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Sodus;  Dec.  28;  wd.  March 

25,  '65;  dis.  June  9,  Washington. 
Hoffman,  Benjamin  F.,  25;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Savannah;  Sept.  8, 

Sergt.;  1st  Sergt.,  no  date;  promoted  2d  Lieut.,  Co.  D. 
Hoffman,  Edwin  M.,  21;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Holley,  James  H.,  35;  Dec.  9,  '63,  Auburn;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Home,  William,  23;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  March 

20,  '63;  Q.  M.  Sergt.,  April  24,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Ingersoll,  John  J.,  44;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  dis.  July 

8,  '63. 

Ingraham,  Jacob,  33;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Butler;  Jan.  4,  '64;  dis.  Feb. 

28,  '65. 

Jackson,  Andrew,  29;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Jenkins,  Reuben,  38;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Sterling;  Sept.  8,  Wagoner; 

dis.  Dec.  23,  '62. 
Jewell,  William  R.,  19;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Johnson,  David,  31;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Keeny,  John  J.,  28;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  29;  dis.  June 

9,  '65. 

Kellerhouse,  Konrad,  32;  Dec.  13,  '63,  Lyons;  Jan.  4,  '64;  dis. 

Oct.  10,  '64. 
Kile,  Luzerne,  22;    Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;    Sept.  8;    d.  Corp., 

Aug.  8,  '63,  Washington. 
King,  John  J.,  28;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  29;  dis.  June 

9,  '65.  Baltimore. 
Knapp,  Isaac,  23;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Mentz;  Dec.  30;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Kunz,  John,  27;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott:  Sept.  8;  deserted  Oct. 

19,  '64. 


COMPANY    G.  533 

Langley,  Samuel  Wing,  31;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Larock,  Leonard,  18;  Feb.  13,  '63,  Galen;  March  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Larzelere,  Warren  E.,  18;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Fayette;  Dec.  21;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Lee,  Benjamin,  37;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb.  9,  '64. 
Leroy,  James,  24;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  24;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lovejoy,  Daniel  F.,  21;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Marion;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Loveless,  George,  18;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 

Lutes,  Jacob,  26;  Sept.  2,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Lynch,  Thomas,  25;  Jan.  16,  '64,  Washington;  Jan.  16;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McAlister,  William  H.,  18;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Albany;  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Me  Arthur,  Olin,  18;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Sergt, 

Dec.  20,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
McClay,  James  H,,  25;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Somerset;  Dec.  28;  Corp., 

March  3,  '65;  dis.  July  24,  '65. 
Mackie,  James  V.,  21;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Galen;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McMillen,  James,  43;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Rose;  Dec.  29;  dis.  July  18, 

'65,  Rochester. 
McMillen,  Michael,  28;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Washington;  Dec.  17;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Madelong.  Theodore,  34;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Marvin,  James  H.,  24;  Sept.  1,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Jan. 

22,  '63;  Sergt,  Oct.  4,  '64,  Color-bearer;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Mead.  D wight,  18;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M*  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Merrill,  James  A.,  18;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  5;  dis.  Sept. 

26,  '64. 

Merrill,  John  H.,  19;  Aug.  28,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  Musician; 

M.  O..  July  6,  '65. 
Miller,  Samuel  D.,  23;  Aug.  24,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

July  11,  '64;  Sergt.,  March  17,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Miller,  William  H.,  27;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Artificer, 

April  5,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Moore,  Calvin  B.,  42;  Aug.  25,  '62,  W^olcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Moore,  George  B.,  20;  Aug.  4,  '63,  Galen;  Aug.  4;  k.  Oct.  19,  '64, 

Cedar  Creek;  had  served  an  enlistment  in  Co.  K,  102d  N. 

Y.  Yols. 
Morey,  Horace  M.,  35;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Rose;  Dec.  31;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


534  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Munson,  Charles  H..  29;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Sodus;  Dec.  28;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  June  13,  '65,  Philadelphia. 
Murray,  Jeremiah,  40 ;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Junius ;  Dec.  29 ;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Murray,  John,  18;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Butler;  Jan.  2;  dis.  June  10,  '65, 

Philadelphia. 
Niles,  Theodore  H..  18;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Somerset;  Dec.  16;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Northrop,  Charles,  18;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Sullivan;  Dec.  14;  prisoner 

May  27,  '64,  Hanover  Junction,  Va.;  sent  to  Richmond; 

thence,  June  8,  to  Andersonville;  no  further  record. 
O'Brien,  Michael,  28;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Junius;  Dec.  30;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Olich,  Charles,  43;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Sodus;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Painter,  Alanson,  41;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Conquest;  Dec.  19;  k.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Peck,  Jeremiah,  40;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  14, 

r65,  Washington. 
Perkins,  Benjamin  W.,  30;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Perkins,  Ira,  28;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  trans.  V.  R.  C., 

July  1,  '63.    Clark's  "Military  History  of  Wayne  County" 

says,  '-'Died,  1864,  Washington." 
Perry,  Jefferson  T.,  38;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  d.  Jan.  4, 

'64,  Baltimore,  of  wounds  received  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Phillips,  Stephen,  22;  March  13,  '63,  Rose;  March  13;  deserted 

Oct.  23,  '63;  had  been  in  Co.  E,  10th  N.  Y.  Cav. 
Pierce,  William  J.,  23;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

March  20,  '63;  dis.  Feb.  8,  '64. 
Pierson,  Forrest  R.,  20;  Sept.  1,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  Musician, 

Dec.  6,  '62;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Plank.  Franklin,  18;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  29;  wd.,  place 

not  given;  dis.  Oct.  2,  '65,  Rochester. 
Plank.  Theodore  N.,  18;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  trans. 

April  18,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Pritchard,  John,  1.9;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Proseus,  Frank  M.,  38;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Galen;  Sept.  8,  1  year;  d. 

Dec.  9,  '64,  City  Point,  Va. 
Ramsperger,  Matthias,  30;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Lyons;  Jan.  5;  trans. 

Oct.  24.  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Rand,  Willard,  22;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  July  11, 

'64;  k.  March  26,  '65,  on  picket  before  Petersburg. 
Raze,  B.  Frank,  18;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Somerset;  Dec.  16;  trans.  June 

27, '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Rhodes,  Charles  C.,  31;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Skaneateles;  1  year;  M.  O.. 

July  6,  '65. 
Rodman,  Vespasian  H.,  28;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

Feb.  24,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 


COMPANY   G.  535 

Rogers,  Patrick,  21;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Seneca  Falls;  Dec.  17;  wd. 

March  25,  '65;  dis.  July  13,  '65,  Philadelphia. 
Sanford,  Charles  H.,  19;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Marion;  Dec.  29;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64.  Cedar  Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Saut,  Leonard  C.,  35;  March  2  '63,  Fair  Haven;  March  2;  dis. 

as  Corp.  June  19,  '65,  Washington. 
Savoy,  Frank,  25;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Marion;  Jan.  1,  '64;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Scott,  Artemus  G.,  28;  Aug.  25,  '63,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb. 

11,  '64. 

Scott,  Irving,  21;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb.  9,  '64. 
Scott,  John  J.,  41;  June  20,  '63,  Wolcott;  June  20;  Corp.,  March 

10, '65;  dis.  July  24, '65. 
Sedore,  Samuel  W.,  24;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Aug.  11,  '63;  Sergt.,  Nov.  16,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Sedore,  Stephen,  36;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Shannon,  Theodore,  35;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Kose;  Jan.  5;  dis.  May  24, 

'65. 
Sherman,  James,  20;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 

24,  '64;  Sergt.,  April  17,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Sherman,  Robert,  27;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Rose;  Dec.  29;  trans.  Feb.  24, 

'65,  V.  R.  C. ;  had  served  in  Co.  E,  98th  N.  Y.,  and  was  wd. 

at  Fair  Oaks. 
Sherman,  William  P.,  22;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  d.  Nov. 

27,  Fort  Foote. 
Shroeder,  Andrew,  27;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  16;  k.  April 

6,  '65,  Sailor's  Creek. 
Silliman,  Hiram,  27;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  wd. 

Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Silliman,  Robert,  18;  Oct.  19,  '63,  Lyons;  Nov.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Smith,  Darius,  44;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  31;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Smith,  Edwin,  25;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Smith.  Elisha,  39;  Sept.  1,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Smith,  Harry  C.,  34;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May 

10,  '64. 
Smith,  Lewis,  20;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Aug.  5, 

'63;  Sergt.,  Sept.  24,  '64;  trans,  field  and  staff,  Q.  M.  Sergt. 
Stern,  Henry  C,  21;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  pro 
moted  2d  Lieut.,  Co.  A. 
Stern,  Henry  M.,  23;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65, 
Stewart,  John  F.,  26;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  Dec.  16,  '62;  promoted  2d  Lieut,  Co.  D. 
Taylor,  Reuben,  18;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Savannah;  Jan.  21;  d.  Aug. 

30,  '64. 


536  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Terwilliger,  Calvin  H.,  22;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Jan.  15,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Thomas,  David  H.,  23;  Sept.  7,  '64,  Marcellus;  Sept.  7,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Thompson,  Hiram,  25;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Sodus;  Dec.  31;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Thompson,  William  W.,  19;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis. 

May  24,  '65. 
Tillow,  ^Robert  C.,  18;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Butler;  Dec.  31;  d.  Jan.  20, 

"65,  Washington. 
Towlerton,  James,  36;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  trans. 

Jan.  29,  '64,  V.  K.  C. 
Tracy,  Calvin  B.,  21;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Tracy,  Roswell,  18;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  March 

3,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Traver,  Robert  N.,  32;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  June  10,  '65. 

Tuttle,  Jabez  H.,  29;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  29;  d.  July 

18,  '64,  Washington. 

Van  Antwerp,  John^24;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  d.,  Artif 
icer,  April  17,  '64,  Butler. 
Waldron,  Harvey  M.,  18;  Sept.  3,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
West,  Harrison  B.,  18;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Savannah;  Jan.  2,  '64; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wetherby,  James,  18;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Sterling;  Sept.  8;  prisoner 

in  the  "Valley,"  no  date;  dis.  June  16,  '65,  Elmira. 
Whalen,  Jeremiah,  23;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Sullivan;  Dec.  22;  k.  April 

2,  '65,  Petersburg. 
White,  Charles,  23;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  d.  Nov.  15, 

'62,  Washington. 
Wiggins,  Charles,  21;  July  22,  '63,  Fair  Haven;  July  22;  wd. 

March  25,  '65,  Petersburg;  dis.  Aug.  11,  '65,  Washington. 
Wiggins,  William  H.,  21;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Williams,  Charles,  45;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Sodus;  Jan.  4;  dis.  Feb. 

20,  '65. 

Willis,  Theodore  H.,  18;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Somerset;  Dec.  16;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Winchell,  Calvin,  29;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  trans.  April 

18,  V.R.  C. 
Winters,  Charles,  39;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  29;  dis.  Dec. 

20,  '64. 
Winters,  Ernst,  19;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  29;  trans.  Jan.  16, 

'65,  V.  R.  C. 
Wood,  Abram  L.,  19;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  trans.  Jan. 

16,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 
Wood,  Charles  E.,  24;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  24;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


COMPANY   H. 

1st  Lieut.  D.  B  Harmon,  later  Captain  Co.  G.        2nd  Lieut.  Sidney  T.  Colvin. 

Capt.  John  L.  Crane. 
Henry  P.  Howard,  Postmaster.       Sergt.  Chas.  L.  Shergur  (F).       Smith  Holden  (F). 


COMPANY    H.  537 

Woodruff,  Frank  M.,  22;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  wd. 

March  25,  '65,  Petersburg;  dis.  June  14,  '65,  Washington. 
Wolvin,  Abram,  18;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 

WTolvin,  David,  22;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Butler;  Jan.  4;  no  M.  O. 
Wolvin,  Robert,  24;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb. 

11,  '64. 
Yeoman,  Ashley,  18;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Savannah;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  165,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Zimmer,  Benjamin,  23;   Dec.  16,  '63,  Seneca  Falls;  Dec.  16; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

COMPANY  H. 

Eastern  Wayne  made  up  the  membership  of  H,  with  Galen 
ranking  an  easy  first,  though  more  men  from  Rose  went  into 
this  company  than  into  any  other  one.  John  L.  Crane,  Esq., 
a  rising  young  lawyer  of  Clyde,  gave  the  scheme  a  start  and 
pushed  it  vigorously,  ably  seconded  by  1st  Lieutenant  Tunis  Yos- 
burg  of  Galen  and  2d  Lieutenant  Daniel  Harmon  of  Rose.  Sid 
ney  T.  Colvin,  who  lived  just  over  the  town  line  in  Butler, 
recruited  several  men  and  was  made  a  sergeant,  eventually 
becoming  a  lieutenant.  J.  D.  Knapp,  later  a  lieutenant,  was 
one  of  the  very  first  to  be  enrolled.  The  work  of  enlistment 
was  nearly  or  quite  all  done  in  about  two  weeks,  but  it  was  hot 
work  while  it  lasted. 

CAPTAINS. 

John  L.  Crane,  26;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  rank  from  Aug. 

24;  dis.  Nov.  12,  '64. 
Joseph  WT.  Jewhurst,  from  1st  Lieut.,  Co.  I,  Feb.  28,  '65;  rank 

from  Feb.  3;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

FIRST  LIEUTENANTS. 

Tunis  Yosburg,  22;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  rank  from  Aug. 

25;  dis.  Dec.  30,  '62. 
Daniel  B.  Harmon,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Jan.  14,  '63;  rank  from  Dec. 

30,  '62;  promoted  Captain  Co.  G. 

George  H.  Pidge,  from  1st  Sergt,  April  4,  '64;  dis.  Sept.  12,  '64. 
Charles  D.  Lent,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Nov.  1,  '64;  rank  from  March 

16;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Philip  P.  Tindall,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Jan.  14,  '65;  rank  from  Nov. 

28,'64;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

SECOND   LIEUTENANTS. 

Daniel  B.  Harmon,  34;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  rank  from 

Aug.  25 ;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Charles  D.  Lent,  from  Sergt.,  Co.  B,  July  3,  '63;  rank  from  June 

10;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 


538  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Sidney  T.  Colvin,  from  Sergt.,  Feb.  9;  rank  from  Jan.  25,  '64; 

wd.  Sept.  19,  '64;  promoted  1st  Lieut.,  Sept.  28,  '64,  not 

mustered;  dis.  Dec.  19,  '64. 
Philip  P.  Tindall,  from  Sergt.,  Dec.  16,  '64;  rank  from  Sept.  15; 

promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Edmond  Young,  from  Sergt.,  Jan.  11,  '65;  rank  from  Sept.  12, 

'64  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

NON-COMMISSIONED  OFFICERS  AND  PRIVATES. 

Adams,  Eugene  H.,  40;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Ledyard;  Sept.  5,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6, '65. 
Allbright,  John  H.,  18;  Sept.  7,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  7,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Allen,  Charles  H.,  23;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Schroeppel;  Jan.  4;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Anderson,  William,  21;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  dis.  Jan.  9,  '65. 
Andrews,  Asa  N.,  26;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Volney;  Dec.  31;  dis.  June 

3,  '65. 
Andrews,  Joseph,  44;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Rose;  Aug.  23;  no  further 

record. 
Angus,  Elijah,  38;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Angus,  Gilbert  F.,  19;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Feb. 

11,  '64;  Sergt,  Dec.  30,  '64;  1st  Sergt,  March  12,  '65;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 

Anton,  Manuel,  22;  Jan.  31,  '65,  Goshen;  Jan.  31;  no  M.  O. 
Baird,  Isaac  C.,  27;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Galen;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Barless,  Romaine  C.,  28;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May 

27,  '65. 

Bartley,  Peter  G.,  15;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Fort  Mansfield;  Jan.  4;  de 
serted  May  26,  '64. 

Bastedo,  Charles,  20;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Genoa;  Jan.  5;  no  M.  O. 
Baxter,  Charles  A.,  22;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Salina;  Jan.  5;  deserted 

July  9,  '64. 
Billings,  Burns,  23;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Malone;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Birdsalf,  Isaac  M.,  37;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Galen;  Sept.  5, 1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Bixby,  Andrew  J.,  24;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Savannah;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.; 

1st  Sergt,  March  10,  '64;  commissioned  1st  Lieut,  after  his 

death;  prisoner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Jan.  1,  '65,  Dan 
ville,  Va. 
Bliton,  William  G.,  35;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept  8;  dis.  March 

10,  '63. 
Bluff,  Henry  (Wm.  H.  Coombs),  30;  Jan.  13,  '64,  Russia;  Jan. 

13;  prisoner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  on  rejoining  regiment 


COMPANY   H.  539 

was  detailed  as  sharpshooter  at  brigade  headquarters;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. ;  was  an  English  veteran  of  the 

Crimean  War. 
Bowles,  James  A.,  22;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Nov. 

10,  '63;  Sergt.,  April  23,  '64;  promoted  2d  Lieut.  Co.  I. 
Boynton,  Judson  C.,  26;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  5,  1  year; 

dis.  July  18,  '65,  Rochester. 
Brewster,  Benjamin  I).,  22;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Brooks,  Edward  H.,  44;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Brutus;  Jan.  4,  '64;  no 

M.  O. 
Brooks,  Lewis  M.,  23;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

Nov.  24,  '62. 
Brooks,  William,  28;  Aug.  30,  '62.  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 

22,  '64;  Sergt,  Dec.  30,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Brown,  Carlos,  27;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Galen;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  dis.  July 

25,  '65,  Rochester. 
Brown,  John,  43;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  March  2, 

'65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Brown,  Thomas,  28;  June  2,  '63,  Palmyra;  June  2;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bunker,  Lewis  D.,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cicero;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Burton,  Reuben,  18;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Sergt.,  Jan. 

28,  '63;  promoted  2d  Lieut.  Co.  I. 

Cain,  Theodore,  21;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Savannah;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

Dec.  15,  '62. 
Carpenter,  Charles,  36;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  5;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Chamberlain,  Charles,  28;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Chapman,  Cortland,  43;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  5,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Collins,  Leonard,  30;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Galen;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 

Colvin,  Sidney  T.,  23;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.;  pro 
moted  2d  Lieut. 
Conklin,  Tunis,  21;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Jan.  17, 

'64;  k.  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy. 
Connor,  Patrick,  36;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6.  '65. 

Cook,  William  H.,  20;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Lyons;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  d.  May 

7,  '65,  Danville,  Va. 

Cooper,  Chester  A!,  18;  July  23,  '63,  Galen;  July  23;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cooper,  William  H.,  40;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  dis.  Feb 

22,  '65. 

Coombs,  William  H.    Vid.  Henry  Bluff. 
Cornell,  Zebulon  A.,  27;  Aug.  10*  '62,  Savannah;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

Julv  6,  '65. 


540  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Cronkhite,  Charles,  27;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Salina;  Dec.  30;  dis.  May 

15,  '65. 
Crosier,  Edward,  28;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Scriba;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Currier,  George,  42;  Jan.  18,  '64,  Russia;  Jan.  18;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.       . 
Dana,  Thomas,  28;  Sept.  2,  Albany;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Davis,  Theodore  M.,  34;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Volney;  Jan.  4;  d.  Aug. 

19,  '64. 
Deady,  Henry  (Henry  Marsh),  22;  Sept.  5,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8; 

Corp.,  Dec.  30,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Desmond,  John,  18;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Galen;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  dis. 

June  20,  '65. 
Desmond,  Timothy,  29;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Scipio;  Sept.  3,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Dipley,  Charles,  43;  Dec.  4,  '63,  Cicero;  Dec.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Ditton,  James  K.  P.,  18;  May  5,  '63,  Lyons;  May  5;  prisoner 

Nov.  6,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Duell,  Albert  E.,  21;  May  2,  '63,  Palmyra;  May  2;  Corp.,  Oct. 

18,  '64;  wd.  April  2,"  '64,  Petersburg;  trans.  June  27,  '65, 

2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Duell,  Charles  N.,  33;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Volney;  Dec.  26;  dis.  June 

9,  '65,  on  account  of  amputation  of  right  leg. 
Duell,  John,  26;  Aug.  24,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Jan.  28,  '63; 

d.  Jan.  31,  '64,  Galen. 
Dunham,  Andrew  J.,  21;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Oct.  18,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Dusenbury,  Joseph  C.,  21 ;" Aug.  13,  '63,  Galen;  Aug.  13;  de 
serted  April  10,  '64;  Vet.  Co.  I,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Edwards,  Robert,  20;  March  2,  '64,  Oswego;  Dec.  7,  '64;  wd. 

Cold  Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Ellis,  John,  36;  Aug.  3,  '64,  Schenectady;  Aug.  30;  dis.  June 

21,  '65,  Washington. 
Evans,  David,  36;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cicero;  Jan.  4;  k.  Oct.  19,  '64, 

Cedar  Creek. 
Feek,  Alonzo,  21;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Rose;  Dec.  10;  prisoner  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  d.  Nov.  12,  '64,  Danville,  Va. 
Fellows,  Andrew  J.,  24;  Feb.  25,  '64,  Fort  Mansfield;  Feb.  25; 

wd.  Cold  Harbor;  trans.  Nov.  18,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Fisher,  Gilbert,  29;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Forbes,  Sanford,  19;  Jan.  12,  '64,  Salina;  Jan.  12;  deserted  July 

9,  '64. 

Forgar,  Charles,  33;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Clay;  Dec.  29;  wd.  Cold  Har 
bor;  trans.  May  4  to  Co.  G,  19th  Regt,  V.  R.  C. 
Forgar,  Oscar,  21;  Jan.  9,  '64,  Salina;  Jan.  9;  dis.  June  13,  '65, 

Washington. 


COMPANY   H.  541 

Forncrook,  Jabez  C.,  18;  Sept.  2,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  2,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Fosmire,  John,  27;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Cainillus;  Sept.  6,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Fowler,  Benjamin  D.,  18;  Jan.  5,,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  5;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Furnum,  Charles  A.,  30;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8,  Sergt; 

dis.  March  2,  '64. 
Garratt,  Richard,  38;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Kose;  Sept.  8;  dis.  March 

10,  '63. 
Gates,  George  W.,  28;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Volney;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gillett,  Avery  H.,  30;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Rose;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  dis. 

June  13,  '65,  Washington. 
Gillett,  Orison,  41;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  k.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Gillett,  William  B.,  28;  Aug.  24,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Gokey,  Charles,  20;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Malone;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Goodyear,  Cortland.  37;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  18;  dis.  May 

15,  '65,  Washington. 
Goodyear,  Lucius,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  New  Haven;  Jan.  4;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Greenman,  John,  21;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Scriba;  Dec.  30;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gridley,  Charles  L.,  21;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  Corp.,  Oct. 

187'64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gridley,  Edward,  24;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  wd. 

June  1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  Feb.  10,  '65. 
Groesbeck,  Charles  S.,  23;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Williamson;  Sept.  5,  1 

year;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Half,  William,  29;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  deserted  Dec. 

17,  '62. 
Hallett  Horace  B.,  37;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Galen;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Handley,  Henry,  28;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Sept. 

15,  '64;  Sergt.,  March  12,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Hannon,  William,  18;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Scriba;  Jan.  2;  dis.  May 

15,  '65. 
Harmon,  Alfred  B.,  22;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Harmon,  William  J.,  28;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  dis.  June  16,  '64,  Washington. 
Harper,  Alexander,  38;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  5,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Harris,  Henry,  21;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Savannah;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Harris,  William,  44;  Dec.  15,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  31;  no  M.  O. 


542  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Hazzard,  William,  43;  Dec.  15,  '63,  24th  N.  Y.  Dist;  Dec.  15; 

deserted  July  13,  '64,  Washington. 
Hendrick,  David  A.,  18;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  5,  1  year; 

dis.  June  13,  '65,  Washington. 
Hendrix,  Peter,  40;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Galen;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Hickok,  William  F.,  30;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  trans.  Feb. 

5,  '65,  V.  R.  0.;  dis.  June  28,  '65. 

Hilts,  Peter,  32;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  dis.  July  13,  '63. 
Hirst,  Charles  R.,  27;  June  4,  '63,  Rose;  June  5;  dis.  Dec.  5,  '64; 

Vet.  Co.  D,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Hollenbeck,  Martin,  22;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

Sept.  22,  '62. 
Hollenbeck,  Richard  I.,  18;  Jan.  7,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  7;  wd. 

Cold  Harbor;  dis.  May  23,  '65. 
Holmes,  John  C.,  18;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hopkins,  Almond,  27;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Savannah;  Sept.  8;  dis. 

June  15,  '65. 
Horn,  George  O.,  28;  Aug.  27,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Sergt., 

April  22,  '64;  wd.  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  Sept.  4,  '65, 

Albany. 
Howard,  Henry  P.,  37;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8,  Artificer, 

and  later  regimental  postmaster;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Hubbard,  Hernando,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Scriba;  Jan.  4;  dis.  May 

8,  '64. 
Hurlburt,  Thomas  K.,  28;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  dis. 

March  10,  '63. 
Hutchins,  Andrew,  43;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June 

23,  '65. 
Hynes,  John  T.,  31;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 

Jeffrey /Thomas  W.,  33;  Dec.  29,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  29;  de 
tailed  as  sharpshooter  at  brigade  headquarters;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Jenkins,  Celestus  A.,  23;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  Feb.  20,  '64;  k.  Sept.  19,  '64;  had  served  in  15th 

N.  Y.  Infantry. 
Jenner,  James  W.,  36;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Williamson;  Sept.  5,  1  year; 

k.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Keller,  George,  35;  Dec.  9,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  9;  dis.  May  16, 

'65,  York,  Penn. 
Kellogg,  Ethan  B.,  21;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  dis.  March 

10,  '64. 
Kennedy,  Joseph,  22;  Dec.  29,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  29;  trans. 

May  15,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 
Knapp,  James  D.,  21;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Sergt., 

Feb.  23,  '64;  1st  Sergt.,  March  2,  '65;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 

Co.  C. 


COMPANY   H.  543 

Kneeley,  Michael,  35;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Kose;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Jan.  17, 

'64. 
Knight,  Abraham,  44;  Aug.  19,,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Knight,  Thomas  C.,  18;  Nov.  7,  '63,  Galen;  Nov.  7;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  May  15,  '65. 
Lake,  Charles  A.,  22;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Fort  Mansfield;  Dec.  23; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lake,  William,  18j  March  4,  '64,  Geddes;  March  5;  dis.  June  15, 

'65,  Annapolis  Junction,  Md. 
Lamb,  William  H.,  29;  Sept.  5,  '62,  Huron;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

Sept.  29,  '62. 
Lamphear,  Parvis,  37;  Jan.  16,  '64,  Russia;  Jan.  18;  dis.  Aug. 

13,  '64. 
Lape,  Jairus,  40;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Artificer, 

'63;  k.  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy. 
Lawrence,  Andrew  D.,  35;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  26;  wd. 

Cold  Harbor;  dis.  May  30,  '65,  York,  Penn. 
Lawrence,  James  M.,  39;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  26;  d.  July 

12,  '64,  City  Point,  Va. 
Lee,  Charles  A.,  28;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  20, 

'65,  Washington. 
Leonard,  Edwin,  18;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Camillus;  Sept.  3,  1  year; 

d.  May  10,  '65. 

Leonard,  Egbert,  18;  Aug.  31,'64,  Junius;  Aug.  31;  no  M.  O. 
Linehan,  James,  18;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  5;  d.  Dec.  5,  '64. 
Lynch,  John,  19;  Jan.  12,  '64,  Syracuse;  prisoner  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Mabb,  John,  39;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Rose;  Sept.  7,  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
McBride,  George  N.,  31;  Aug.  26,  '64,  Auburn;  Aug.  26,  1  year; 

dis.  May  15,  '65. 
McComb,  George  C.,  31;  Dec.  5,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

McGrane,  Charles,  27;  Aug.  10,  '63,  Palmyra;  Aug.  10;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McGuinness,  Daniel,  21;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  d.  July 

28,  '63,  Fort  Mansfield. 

McGuire,  James,  15;  Dec.   23,  '63,  Fort  Mansfield;  Dec.  23, 

Musician;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Mclntyre,  John  V.,  19;  Oct.  10,  '64,  Rochester;  1  year;  dis. 

June  9,  '65,  Philadelphia. 
Mclntyre,  Levi,  20;  June  17,  '63,  Wolcott;  June  17;  trans.  Feb. 

17,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Mclntyre,  William  H.,  24;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Camillus;  Sept.  3,  1  year; 

promoted  2d  Lieut.  Co.  C;  Vet.  Co.  B,  27th  N.  Y. 
Mackay,  Alonzo,  20;  Dec.  11,  '63,  Salina;  Dec.  28;  dis.  May  9, 

'65. 
McKeon,  George,  40;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  wd. 

April  2,  '64,  Petersburg;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 


544  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Manners,  Patrick,  21;  Dec.  29,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  29;  wd. 

Cold  Harbor;  deserted  Jan.  9,  '65;  a  case  of  bad  manners. 
Marsh,  Cornelius  A.,  21;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May 

2,  '64. 

Marsh,  Henry.    Vid.  Henry  Deady. 
Marsh,  Uriah,  24;  Aug.  28,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Oct.  18,  '64; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Martin,  Gregory,  33;  Jan.  4,  '64,  New  Haven;  Jan.  4;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,'Monoeacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Matthews,  Calvin,  43;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Savannah;  Dec.  28;  no  M.  O. 
Matthews,  William  H.,  21;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  k.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Mattison,  John  E..  18;  Jan.  14,  '64,  Eaton;  Jan.  14;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Mecorney,  Edwin,  36;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Seneca  Falls;  Sept.  5, 1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Menanson,  Joseph,  23;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  14;  dis.  Dec. 

2,  '64. 
Meyer,  Jacob,  32;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Galen,  in  Co.  K;  Sept.  8;  trans. 

to  Co.  H  Dec.  19,  '62;  Corp.,  Dec.  30,  '64;  wd.  Sept.  19,  '64, 

Winchester;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Miller,  Charles  H.,  19;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Salina;  Jan.  11;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Miller,  Peter,  45;  Dec.  3,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  d.  Sept.  9,  '64, 

Berryville,  Va. 

Mills,  Charles  C.,  44;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Cold  Har 
bor;  trans.  Oct.  18,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Mills.  Francis  A.,  25;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Savannah;  Dec.  27;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Morey,  Edwin,  31;  Dec.  8,  '63,  Rose;  Dec.  8;  d.  June  3,  '64,  from 

wounds  received  at  Cold  Harbor. 
Morris,  Uriah,  20;  Aug.  11,  '64,  Sempronius;  Aug.  11,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Nelson,  Reuben  G.,  18;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  26;  d.  Sept. 

23,  '64,  from  wounds  received  Sept.  19  at  Winchester. 
Newman,  John,  21;  Jan.  9,  '64,  Salina;  Jan.  9;  Corp.,  March  12, 

'65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Nichols,  Peter,  23;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  k.  June  1,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor. 
Norcross,  Chapin,  28;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Norton,  Zenas,  41;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Schroeppel;  Dec.  30;  d.  July  10, 

'64,  of  wounds  received  at  Monocacy  on  the  9th. 
O'Connor,  Timothy,  44;  Aug.  28,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
O'Neill/ George,  19;  Jan'  5,  '64,  Salina;  Jan.  5;  Corp.,  June  4, 

'65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

O'Neil,  John  F.,  25;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Volney;  Jan.  2;  dis.  May  17,  '64. 
Ostrander,  William  H.,  23;  Feb.  3,  '64,  Fort  Mansfield;  Feb.  3; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


COMPANY    H.  545 

Page,  Joseph,  18;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Ontario;  Sept.  8,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Palmer,  Edgar,  18;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Savannah;  Jan.  4,  '64;  dis. 

June  9,  '65,  Philadelphia. 
Parker,  George  A.,  44;  Sept.  7,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  7,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Parker,  Morris,  23;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Scriba;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Peck,  Eron  J.,  20;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Petteys,  Charles  V.,  18;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  Corp., 

J*an.  18,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.,  and  finally 

M.  O.  as  2d  Lieut. 
Petteys,  Freeman  D.,  21;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Junius;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

April  27,  '64;  Sergt.,  Dec.  20,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Petteys,  Lucius,  18;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Galen;  Jan.  5;  d.  May  11,  '65, 

Philadelphia. 
Petteys,  Martin  D.,  44;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  June  15,  '65,  Washington. 
Pidge,  George  H.,  34;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8,  1st  Sergt; 

promoted  1st  Lieut. 

Pimm,  Enos  T.,  30;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Camillus;  Sept.  3,  1  year;  Artif 
icer,  Feb.  24,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Pitcher,  George  A.,  18;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Kose;  Sept.  7,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Potts,  Clark,  43;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Galen;  Sept.  3,  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65;  Vet.  Co.  K,  98th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Poutry,  Dallas,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cicero;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Poutry,  Dennis,  42;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cicero;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Powers,  Edwin,  43;  Dec.  9,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Powers,  Lendell  P.,  33;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May 

19,  '65. 
Eace,  James,  21;  Aug.  27,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Oct.  12,  '63; 

dis.  May  6,  '64. 
Race,  John,  19;  Aug.  10,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  deserted  Feb.  15, 

'63,  Fort  Mansfield. 
Randall,  Norton  S.,  28;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Hannibal;  Dec.  29;  d. 

July  11,  '64,  from  wounds  received  at  Monocacy. 
Ready,  Alexander,  44;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  dis.  March 

9,  '63. 
Reno,  George,  37;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Galen;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Rich,  John,  18;  Aug.  6,  '63,  Lyons;  Aug.  6;  trans.  June  27,  '65, 

2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Richardson,  Loren  S.,  18;  Dec.  25,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  25; 
deserted  July  21,  '64. 
35 


546  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Kinger,  Myron,  21;  Feb.  5,  '64,  Galen;  Feb.  5;  dis.  Dec.  19,  '64. 
Bobbins,  Alexander,  22;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Savannah;  Sept.  8;  Artif 
icer,  March  22,  '63;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Bobbins,  Sanford,  29;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Savannah;  Dec.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bobinson,  John,  27;  Jan.  12,  '64,,  Salina;  Jan.  12;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bowe,  Philip  H.,  22;  Dec.  5,  '63,  Williamson;  Dec.  6;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Sabin,  George  G.,  25;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Sodus;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65;  Vet.  Co.  D,  6th  Ohio  Vols. 
Sager,  Jacob,  30;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8,  Musician;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Schoonmaker,  John,  22;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Galen;  Jan.  11;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Seccomb,  Philo  C.,  36;  Aug.  26,  '64,  Owasco;  1  year;  d.  Nov.  25, 

'64,  Winchester,  Va. 
Seelye,  Alfred,  18;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Bose;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Seelye,  Irwin  B.,  19;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Seelye,  J.  Judson,  25;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Bose;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  dis. 

Musician,  June  12,  '65. 

Shattuck,  Allen,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Scriba;  Jan.  4;  dis.  May  23,  '65. 
Sherman,  Charles,  25;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Bose;  Sept.  5;  no  M.  O. 
Sifer,  John,  27;  Sept.  10,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  10;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Sloan,  Alfred  J.,  22;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Galen;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Smith,  Allen,  18;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  deserted  Feb. 

17,  "'64. 
Smith,  James,  23;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  prisoner  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Smith,  John  G.,  18;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Galen;  Sept.  2;  no  M.  O. 
Smith,  Lewis  B.,  26;  Dec.  9,  '63,  New  York;  Dec.  14;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Smith,  Nehemiah  G.,  44;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis. 

Sept.  9,  '63. 
Smith,  Sabin,  44;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  4;  dis.  June  20, 

'65. 
Smith,  Sheldon,  27;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Marcellus;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Snedaker,  Lyman  T..  43;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Galen;  Sept.  3;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Soule,  Ira,  43;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Bose;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.  as  Musician 

July  6,  '65. 
Soule,  Ira  T.,  18;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Bose;  Sept.  8,  Musician;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Spurling,  William;  no  record,  save  trans,  to  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A., 

where  he  was  put  down  "deserted." 


COMPANY   H.  547 

Stead,  Joseph,  27;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Feb.  25, 

'64;  d.  Sept.  22,  '64,  from  wounds  received  Sept.  19  at  Win 
chester. 
Stead,  Thomas,  21;  Aug.  16,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Stewart,  Samuel,  42;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  2,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Stickles,  David  H.,  23;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

Feb.  15,  '63. 
Stickles,  Robert,  26;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 

2,  '65  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Sumpter,  George,  21;  May  5,  '63,  Galen;  May  5;  deserted  July 

14,  '63. 
Taylor,  Hiram,  26;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Wolcott;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Thornton,  Erastus,  44;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  trans.  Jan. 

22,  '64,  V.  R.  0. 
Tindall,  Philip,  26;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Nov.  10, 

'63;  Sergt,  Feb.  23,  '64;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Toepper,  John  G.,  28;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  18;  dis.  May 

31,  '65. 
Toles,  Eben  W.,  26;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Rose;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  dis. 

May  25,  '65. 
Tompkins,  Henry,  23;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  dis.  March 

12,  '63,  hospital. 
Torry.  Addison,  18;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Cicero;  Dec.  21;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Torry,  Jerome,  28;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cicero;  Jan.  4;  prisoner  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  d.  Oct.  23,  '64,  hospital,  Annapolis,  Md. 
Turner,  Edward,  22;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Galen;  Corp.,  Feb.  11,  '64; 

Sergt,  March  9,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Turpenning,  Maynard,  30;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cicero;  Jan.  4;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  dis.  May  30,  '65,  York,  Penn. 
Underbill,  Jason,  21;  Sept.  23,  Rochester;  Sept.  23,  1  year;  wd. 

April  2,  '65,  Petersburg ;  dis.  June  16,  '65,  Washington. 
Van  Alstine,  Jacob,  42;  Jan.  8,  '64,  Salina;  Jan.  8;  trans.  June 

27, '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Van  Buren,  Albert,  22;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Volney;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Vanderburg,  John  W.,  21;  Dec.  11,  '63,  Rose;  Dec.  11;  dis.  Mar. 

5,  '65,  hospital. 
Vanderpool,  Isaac,  21;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Victory;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Oct.  18,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Van  Woert,  James  L.,  27;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Rose;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  Jan.  27,  '64;  prisoner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Veeley,  Aaron,  18;  March  25,  '63,  Galen;  March  25;  wd.  Sept. 

19,  '64;  trans.  May  14,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Vermilyea,  A.  J.,  30;  Sept.  17,  '64,  Lyons;  Sept.  17,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 


548  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Vosburg,  John  J.,  21;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

Dec.  15,  '62. 
Wadley,  Martin,  32;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May  29, 

'65. 
Wager,  Eacher,  18;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  deserted  Dec. 

1,  '62. 
Waite,  Stephen  M.,  39;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Rose;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  dis. 

May  18,  '65,  Philadelphia. 
Waldo,  James,  21;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  8,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Waldron,  William  P.,  25;  Sept.  1,  '63,  Galen;  Sept.  1;  deserted 

June  14,  '64. 
Wares,  Charles,  40;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Savannah;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Warner,  Charles,  18;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Cicero;  Dec.  30;  d.  July  23, 

'64,  from  wounds  received  July  9  at  Monocacy. 
Warren,  Charles  M.,  25;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Warren,  Isaac  M,,  34;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Macedon;  1  year;  M.  O.. 

July  6,  '65. 
Weaver,  Jonathan  C.,  28;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept  8;  k.  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy,  Md. 
West,  Elbridge  G.,  31;  Sept.  12,  '64,  Winchester,  Va.;  Sept.  13, 

1  year;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Whittlesey,  Charles,  18;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  28;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wiley,  George,  19;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 

22,  '64;  Sergt.,  Dec.  30,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Wilkins,  William,  20;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Pompey;  Dec.  30;  k.  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy. 
Williams,  Jacob  N.,  41;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  2,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Winslow,  Samuel,  38;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Seneca  Falls;  Sept.  5,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Worden,  Nelson,  40;  Sept.  7,  '64,  Malone;  Sept.  7,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Wormuth,  Daniel,  21;  Aug.  10,  '62,  Savannah;  Sept.  8;  dis. 

June  15,  '65,  Washington. 
Wormuth,  David,  27;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Savannah;  Dec.  28;  dis.  June 

15,  '65,  Washington. 
Wright,  George  L.,  22;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Volney;  Jan.  4;  d.  Dec.  26, 

'64,  City  Point,  Va. 
Wright,  Martin,  24;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Volney;  Jan.  4;  dis.  May  18,  '65, 

Norfolk. 
Wright,  Philander,  33;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Savannah;  Sept.  8;  wd. 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  May  30,  '65. 
Young,  Edmund,  18;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Feb. 

23,  '64;  Sergt,  Oct.  30,  '64;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 

Young,  Henry,  26;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  deserted  Nov. 
26,  '62. 


CAPTAIN  HUGH  HUGHES. 
COMPANY  1. 


COMPANY    I.  549 

COMPANY  I. 

More  than  any  other  one,  "I"  would  be  known  as  the  Auburn 
company.  Upon  the  muster-in  roll  may  be  found  two  or  three 
names  from  Sennett,  eleven  from  Owasco,  and  the  remainder 
are  from  the  city.  Captain  Hughes  gave  the  ball  a  start,  and 
Lieutenants  Howard  and  Freeoff  helped  it  along. 

The  earliest  enlistment  recorded  is  that  of  Clarence  Horton, 
July  10th,  followed  on  the  llth  by  that  of  William  Cook,  both 
of  Auburn.  A  few  more  were  enrolled  in  July,  but  the  majority 
came  in  August,  a  very  few  coming  in  after  the  beginning  of 
September. 

CAPTAINS. 

Hugh  Hughes,  44;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  rank  from 

Aug.  25  ;dis.  Nov.  12,  '64. 
Philip  R.  Freeoff,  from  1st  Lieut.,  March  1,  '65 ;  rank  from  Nov. 

14;  dis.  May  15,  '65. 

FIRST  LIEUTENANTS. 

Orson,  Howard,  24;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  rank  from 

Aug.  25;  promoted  Captain  Co.  E. 
Lyman  C.  Comstock,  from  2d  Lieut.  Co.  C,  Feb.  6,  '64;  dis.  May 

15,  '65. 
George  R.  Watson,  22;  Oct.  22,  '64,  Auburn;  Oct.  22;  rank  from 

Sept.  28;  trans.  Co.  D. 
Philip  E.  Freeoff,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Dec.  15,  '64;  rank  from  Nov. 

14;  promoted  Captain. 
Samuel  F.  Harris,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Dec.  22,  '64;  rank  from  Nov. 

12;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Benjamin  J.  Yard,  returns  from  Co.  F,  June  26,  '65;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 

SECOND   LIEUTENANTS. 

Philip  R.  Freeoff,  34;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  rank  from 

Aug.  25;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Horace  B.  Babcock,  23;  April  23,  '64,  Washington;  April  23; 

promoted  1st  Lieut,  not  mustered;  dis.  Dec.  21, '64;  veteran; 

had  served  an  enlistment  in  Co.  E,  75th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Samuel  F.  Harris,  from  1st  Sergt,  Nov.  30,  '64;  promoted  1st 

Lieut. 
Reuben  Burton,  from  Sergt.,  Co.  H,  April  16,  '64;  trans,  to  Co. 

B,  May  30,  '64. 
John  D.  Robinson,  from  1st  Sergt.,  March  1,  '65;  rank  from  Feb. 

3;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  M.  O.  as  1st  Lieut. 
David  D.  Becker,  from  private,  Co.  G,  Feb.  18,  '65;  rank  from 

Nov.  12,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Benjamin  J.  Yard,  from  private,  May  23,  '64;  rank  from  April 

1,  '64;  promoted  1st  Lieut.  Co.  F. 


550  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

James  A.  Bowles,  from  Sergt.,  Go.  H,  Jan.  14,  '65;  rank  from 
Nov.  29,  '64;  promoted  1st  Lieut.,  Feb.  18,  '65,  not  mustered; 
dis.  March  29,  '65. 

NON-COMMISSIONED  OFFICERS  AND  PRIVATES. 

Abel,  Martin,  19;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Agen,  Edward,  18;  June  27,  '63,  Auburn;  July  9;  d.  Jan.  28,  '64, 

Fort  Simmons. 
Anthony,  George,  21;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Anthony,  Wilson,  21;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Arlow,  Robert,  23;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Fort  Simmons;  Jan.  5;  Sergt., 

May  1,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  navy. 
Babcock,  Charles  E.,  21;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  trans. 

Feb.  19,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Backenstrass,  John,  43;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  trans. 

Feb.  19,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Barber,  James  M.,  38;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  31;  d.  Aug. 

9,  '64,  at  home. 
Beach,  Andrus  N.,  23;  Aug  7,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  Jan.  9,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Blauvelt,  James  R.,  18;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Jan.  9,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Blauvelt,  Peter  P.,  43;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Aurelius;  Jan.  21,  '64;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Blodgett,  Charles  M.,  19;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Jan.  9,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Blowers,  John  L.,  21;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Ledyard;  Dec.  30;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  May  27,  '65,  Elmira. 

Bowen,  Alonzo,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June 

24,  '65. 
Bresnihan,  Daniel,  18;  Jan.  15,  '63,  Auburn;  July  9;  dis.  Dec. 

20,  '64,  Washington. 

Brightmire,  John,  33;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Brown,  John  E.,  21;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  d.  Jan.  3, 

63,  Fort  Reno. 
Browning,  John,  36;  June  29,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  H,  35th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Bulkley,  Andrew  J.,  22;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  trans. 

Feb.  19,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Burch,  John  H.,  26;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Burke,  John,  30;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Waterloo;  Dec.  22;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Carpenter,  DeWitt  C.,  21;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


COMPANY    I.  551 

Chapin,  Philip  W.,  34;  July  18,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  wd.  March 

25,  '65,  Petersburg;  dis.  May  11,  '65,  Philadelphia. 
Clark,  Orrin,  19;  July  15,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Clark,  William,  21;  April  27,  '63,  Auburn;  April  27;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Clayton,  Elihu,  40;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Ledyard;  Dec.  28;  trans.  June 

27.  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Connor,  James  O.,  30;  May  6,  '63,  Auburn;  June  4;  wd.  Cedar 

Creek;  trans,  as  Corp.,  Jan.  7,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 
Cook,  James,  22;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Montgomery;  Dec.  20;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cook,  William,  18;  July  11,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Dec.  2, 

'64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Coon,  Oscar,  19;  June  22,  '63,  Auburn;  July  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Corcoran,  Patrick,  24;  Nov.  26,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  2;  wd.  March 

25,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cowl,  DeWitt  P.,  18;  Aug.  3,  '63,  Syracuse;  Aug.  3;  trans.  Feb. 

19,  '64,  V.  R.  C.;  Vet.  Co.  L,  4th  N.  Y.  A. 
Crofoot,  James  H.,  41;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Aurelius;  Dec.  29;  dis.  June 

30,  '63,  Washington. 
Crowley  ?Michael,  41;  July  18,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Cullen,  Patrick,  42;  Dec.  21.  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  30;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Curtis,  James,  20;  July  27,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Cuykendall,  Martin,  21;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

1st  Sergt.,  March  1,  '65;  wd.  April  6,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Darrow,  Edward,  34;  July  27,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8;  deserted, 

no  date. 
David,  Lewis  F..  21;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Montgomery;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Dean,  John  E.,  18;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Milan;  Sept.  8;  trans.  Dec.  15, 

'64,  field  and  staff,  Sergt.  Major. 
Dean,  Norman,  26;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Covert;  Aug.  31,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Deyo,  Charles  G.,  23;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Dongas,  Edward,  31;  June  30,  '63,  Auburn;  July  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Doran,  Michael,  18;  Nov.  13,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  19;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Doyle,  James,  20;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Doyle,  John,  24;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  30;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Dwyer,  Patrick,  32;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  30;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


552  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Edwards,  John  A.,  18;  Aug.  15,  '64,  Schenectady;  Aug.  15; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Elson,  Henry,  18;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Jan.  2;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Ennis,  Thomas,  40;  Sept.  3,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Etts,  Egbert  M.,  27;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Etts,  William  H.,  33;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27.  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Farrell,  Lock,  44;  Aug.  16,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Mar.  13, 

'63. 

Fend,  John,  18;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Ferguson,  John  T.,  40;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Springport;  Jan.  4;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Fiero,  George,  21;  Dec.  15,  '63,  Moravia;  Dec.  21;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Finlan,  William,  25;  July  22,  '63,  Auburn;  Aug.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  D,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Flanagan,  John,  21;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  30;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Flannery,  Cornelius,  33;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Sergt; 

M.  6.,  July  6,  '65. 
Flannery,  Jerry,  26;  Aug.  8,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  deserted 

April  24,  '63. 
Fosmire,  Charles,  18;  Nov.  24,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  7;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Fowler,  Walter,  23;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Scipio;  Dec.  30;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
French,  George,  21;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  k.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Frye,  Moses  M.,  21;  July  27,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb.  26, 

'64,  for  promotion  in  U.  S.  C.  T. 
Gallivan,  Mortimer,  24;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Niles;  Sept.  11,  1  year; 

dis.  June  28,  '65. 
Gallivan,  Patrick,  18;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Garey,  Charles  W.,  38;  Jan.  4?  '64,  Geneva;  Jan.  4;  dis.  July  1, 

'65,  Washington. 
Garvey,  James,  38;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  26;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gerrish,  John  C.,  40;  Aug.  3,  '63,  Auburn;  Aug.  25;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  E,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Godden,  Stephen  F.,  36;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Graham,  James,  21;  June  23,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Gregor,  Cyrus  A.,  18;  June  19,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  9;  trans. 
June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


COMPANY  I. 

2nd  Lieut.  J.  D.  Robinson.       Capt.  P.  R.  Freeoff.        1st  Lieut.  B.  J.  Yard. 
1st  Lieut.  H.  B.  Babcock.         Sergt.  Major  John  E.  Dean.         J.  R.  Northcott. 

Horace  Osborn  (F).  *Porter  V.  Palmer.       H.  E.  Perkins  and  Alonzo  Bowen. 


*Paimer's  death  was  the  first  in  the  regiment,  Sept.  19,  1862.     In  his  picture  he  masquerades  in  a  lieutenant's  coat. 


COMPANY    I.  553 

Haley,  Andrew,  25;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Auburn;  Jan.  21,  '64;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hall,  Charles,  18;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Sergt,  Jan.  9, 

'64  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Hall,  Charles,  18;  Aug.  3,  '63,  Syracuse;  Aug.  3;  no  M.  O. 
Harris,  Samuel  F.,  25;  Aug.  4,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  Sept.  17,  '63;  1st  Sergt.,  Jan.  19,  '64;  promoted  2d 

Lieut. 
Harris,  William  H.,  18;  June  30,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  9;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Harris,  William  W.,  32;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

trans.  Feb.  19,  '64,  V.  K.  C. 
Harwood,  Charles,  23;  Nov.  27,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  7;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hausman,  Augustus,  37;  June  17,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  9;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hawkins,  Edwin  E.,  22;  July  21,  '63,  Auburn;  Aug.  31;  dis.  July 

1,  '65,  Washington. 
Hibbard,  Henry,  26;  June  15,  '63,  Auburn;  June  15;  no  M.  O.; 

Vet.  Co.  G,  27th  N.  Y.  Infantry. 
Hickey,  John,  18;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Jan.  9, 

'64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Hixon,  Charles,  44;  July  3,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  9;  dis.  March  17, 

'64,  Fort  Simmons. 
Hodder,  Nathaniel,  18;  Dec.  12,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hogan,  Martin,  18;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  absent,  sick 

from  Nov.  1,  '64. 
Horton,  Clarence  L.,  21;  Aug.  10,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Jan.  9,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Howard,  Michael,  40;  Aug.  17,  '63,  Auburn;  Aug.  31;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hoye,  John,  45;  March  3,  '63,  Auburn;  March  5;  prisoner  May 

23,  '64,  Bowling  Green,  Va. ;  d.  Aug.  23,  '64,  Andersonville. 
Huestis,  Henry  M.,  24;  Sept.  29,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  5;  dis.  Sept. 

6,  '64,  Parole  Camp,  Annapolis,  Md. 
Hyatt,  Francis  E.,  19;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  date  of 

M.  O.  not  given. 
Hvde,  James,  21;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Harford;  Jan.*  4;  trans.  Jan.  19, 

'65,  V.  K.  C. 
Ireland,  John,  16;    July  30,  '62,  Auburn;    Sept.  8,  Musician; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
James,  Fetters,  21;  July  2,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  9;  deserted,  no 

date. 
Jewhurst,  Joseph  W.,  24;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.; 

promoted  1st  Lieut.  Co.  L. 
Jones,  John  L.,  1st,  18;  May  27,  '63,  Auburn;  June  19;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Jones,  John  L.,  2d,  21;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


554  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Karr,  Augustus  B.,  18;  April  2,  '63,  Wolcott;  May  6;  d.  Feb.  18, 

'64,  at  home. 
Keenan,  Thomas,  18;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Aurelius;  Dec.  26;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Kemp,  Edward,  22;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Montezuma;  Jan.  19;  d.  Jan. 

27,  '64,  Fort  Simmons. 
Lathrop,  Jared  B.,  45;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Lysander;  Dec.  23;  Mi  O., 

June  26,  '65,  Philadelphia. 
Lawler,  Edward,  35;  July  24,  '63,  Syracuse;  Aug.  5;  d.  Aug.  10, 

'63,  Fort  Simmons,  from  sunstroke. 
Leddy,  Michael,  18;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Leo,  Daniel,  23;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  29;  deserted;  not 

lion-hearted,  in  spite  of  his  name. 
Low,  Alvah,  44;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Sennett;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Lynch,  John,  23;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Lynch,  Morris,  21;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Lynch,  Thomas,  21;  July  28,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Wagoner; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
McGrain,  Lawrence,  20;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

Sergt,  Jan.  9,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
McGrain,  Patrick,  19;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Jan.  9,  '64  ;M.  Ov  July  6,  '65. 
McGuire,  John,  25;  Jan.  6,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  15;  wd.  April  2, 

'64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Mclntyre,  Joseph,  29;  Feb.  9,  '64,  Syracuse;  Feb.  9;  no  M.  O. 
McLaughlin,  Patrick,  39;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  d.  June 

5,  '64,  at  Cold  Harbor  from  exhaustion. 
McMillan,  Edward,  28;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Auburn;  Jan.  4;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McNamara,  Cornelius,  26;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  29;  wd. 

April  2,  '64;  dis.  Oct.  13,  '65,  Albany. 
Manley,  Thomas,  26;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Menzie,  James  K,,  44;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  20;  k.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Merry,  Libbeus  H.,  24;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Taylor;  Dec.  22;  dis.  June 

5,  '65,  Washington. 

Miles,  Daniel  L.,  21;  Aug.  1,  '63,  Auburn;  Aug.  25;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Miles,  Enoch,  24;  Aug.  1,  '63,  Auburn;  Aug.  25;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  I,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Miles,  Thomas,  37;  Feb.  25,  '64,  Springport;  Feb.  25;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Miller,  Hiram  H.,  25;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  no  M.  O. 
Milliman,  James,  44;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  28;  dis.  June 

6,  '65,  Frederick,  Md. 


COMPANY    I.  555 

Monroe,  Willard  F.,  20;  Oct.  31,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  19;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Moreau,  Felix,  22;  June  12,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  9;  deserted, 

no  date;  unhappy  Felix. 
Morgan,  Charles  A.,  37;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Morgan,  Jedediah  S.,  44;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  6;  de 
serted,  no  date. 
Mornan,  Daniel,  42;  July  26,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  trans.  June 

22,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Mudge,  Nelson,  21;  July  27,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  trans.  Feb. 

19,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Murphy,  James,  18;  Aug.  23,  '64,  Auburn;  Aug.  23,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Murphy,  Michael,  21;  Aug.  3,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Dec. 

9,  '64  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Murray,  Joseph,  36;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  wd.  April  2, 

'64,  Petersburg;  dis.  May  31,  '65. 
Nagell,  Henry  J.,  27;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Negus,  John  J.,  22;  June  22,  '63,  Auburn;  July  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Nichalson,  Oswald,  44;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  31;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Ninas,  Morrison,  22;  Aug.  15,  '64,  Schenectady;  Aug.  15;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Northcott,  Joseph  R.,  21;  July  15,  '63,  Auburn;  Aug.  5;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Nugent,  John,  1st,  44;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  dis. 

Aug.  1,  '65,  Elmira. 
Nugent,  John,  2d,  18;  Aug.  9,  '64,  Conquest;  Aug.  9,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Oakley,  Lester,  21;  July  21,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
O'Bryne,  John,  32;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Owasco;  Dec.  28;  deserted,  no 

date. 
O'Connor,  Callahan,  38;  Dec.  20,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  23;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
O'Flaherty,  Edward,  18;  Aug.  18,  '63,  Auburn;  Aug.  25;  Corp., 

Dec.  24,  '64;  wd.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek,  and  April  2,  '65, 

Petersburg;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  was  Sergt. 

at  M.  O. 
Oliver,  Nathan  C.,  24;  July  27,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Oliver,  Orlando,  32;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Taylor;  Dec.  22;  dis.  May  9, 

'65,  Washington;  Vet.  Co.  A,  76th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
O'Tool,  Patrick,  28;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Auburn;  trans.  Feb.  19,  '64, 

V.  R.  C. 

Palmer,  Porter  V.,  19;  July  29,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  d.  Sept. 
19,  '62,  Washington;  the  first  death  in  the  regiment. 


556  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Parker,  Joseph,  25;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  3,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Parker,  Marion,  29;  July  29,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  d.  Aug.  2, 

'64,  Washington. 
Patterson,  Samuel,  29;  July  21,  '63,  Auburn;  Aug.  25;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Perkins,  Henry  E.,  19;  March  27,  '63,  Auburn;  May  6;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Phelan,  John,  29;  May  20,  '63,  Galen;  June  9;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Platt,  Giles  C.,  33;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Powell,  Francis  H.,  18;  June  19,  '63,  Auburn;  July  9;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Powers,  Edward,  21;  Dec.  22,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Eeid,  David  P.,  25;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8,  Musician; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Reish,  John,  44;  July  24,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  dis.  July 

8,  '63,  Fort  Simmons. 
Kenahan,  James,  19;  Feb.  10,  '64,  Auburn;  Feb.  10;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Renahan,  Michael,  44;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  March 

28,  '63,  Fort  Simmons. 

Reynolds,  John,  40;  Feb.  11,  '63,  Auburn;  Feb.  21;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Ribey,  John,  32;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8;  d.  Nov.  11,  '64, 

of  wounds  received  at  Cedar  Creek. 
Robinson,  John  D.,  21;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Sennett;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  1st 

Sergt,  Dec.  16,  '64;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Ronald,  John,  40;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  d.  March  11, 

'64,  Fort  Simmons. 
Rumrill,  Charles,  21;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Ryan,  John,  32;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Owasco;  Dec.  26;  deserted,  no  date. 
Ryan,  Thomas,  18;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  31;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Ryan,  William,  1st,  29;  July  26,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Ryan,  William,  2d,  28;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Auburn;  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Sayers,  Bennett,  23;  April  6,  '63,  Auburn;  June  4;  k.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Sheldon,  Jacob  N.,  38;  Sept.  6,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June 

28,  '65. 

Shelinburg,  Peter,  25;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  July  14,  '65. 

Sheppard,  David,  44;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springfield;  Dec.  30;  no  M.  O. 
Sholes,  William,  43;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  30;  no  M.  O. 


COMPANY    I.  557 

Simmons,  George,  42;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  trans. 
June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Sinclair,  Frank  A.,  28;  Sept.  4,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Sergt; 
promoted  Captain  Co.  L. 

Sinclair,  William  W.,  18;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  pro 
moted  2d  Lieut.  Co.  L. 

Smith,  James,  31;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Ledyard;  Dec.  21,  Artificer; 
trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Smith,  Johnson,  22;  Aug.  23,  '64,  Springport;  Aug.  24,  1  year; 
M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Smith,  Joseph  R.,  44;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  d.  Nov. 

1,  '64,  from  wounds  received  at  Cedar  Creek. 

Smith,  Martin,  21;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Smith,  Polhemus,  24;  Dec,  21,  '63,  Ledyard;  Dec.  21;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Steinmetz,  Aaron  R.,  30;  June  17,  '63,  Syracuse;  Aug.  5;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Stickles,  Gilbert  L.,  21;  July  9,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  9;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Sullivan,  Michael,  19;  Nov.  11,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  2;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Swart,  James  H.,  18;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Dec. 

24,  '64  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Sykes,  William,  20;  May  23,  '63,  Auburn;  June  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Thompson,  Edwin,  21;  Aug.  9,  '64,  Conquest;  Aug.  9;  no  M.  O. 
Thompson,  Loren,  21;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Thompson, Oscar,  29;  Jan.  31,  '64,  Springport;  Jan.  31;  wd.  Apr. 

2,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Thompson,  Oscar  B.,  27;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  no 

M.  O. 

Thompson,  Sarel,  44;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  no  M.  O. 
Thomson,  Orsemus,  21;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Springport;  dis.  Jan.  17, 

'66,  Elmira;  the  very  last  to  be  mustered  out. 
Thorn,  Alexander,  44;  June  29,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  9;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Thurlow,  James,  21;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Mar. 

1,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Tompkins.  Thomas,  31;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  23;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Truss,  Hiram,  45;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Turner,  Charles  M.,  23;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb. 

20,  '63,  Fort  Reno. 
Ulrich,  Adolph,  22;  June  2,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  19;  deserted,  no 

date. 
Van  Guilder,  Charles,  28;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Jan.  9,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 


558  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Van  Middlesworth,  Isaac,  21;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Owasco;  Dec.  28; 

wd.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  May  3,  '64,  Philadelphia. 

Waldron,  Aaron,  19;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Skaneateles;  Dec.  22;  dis.  May 

26,  '65,  Washington. 

Waldron,  Augustine,  23;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Jan.  9,  '64 ;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Waldron,  Ephraim,  29;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb. 

23  '63 
Waldron,  Sylvester,  26;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Wallace,  Joseph  J.,  27;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8,  Artificer; 

wd.  April  2,  '65,  Petersburg;  d.  April  3  of  wounds. 
Wallace,  Martin,  18;  Nov.  27,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  2;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Wallace,  Thomas,  18;  Aug.  1,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  d.  Oct.  17, 

'63,  Fort  Simmons. 
Wallace,  William  J.,  25;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

Sergt,  Dec.  24,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Welch,  Clarence,  18;  June  9,  '63,  Auburn;  June  9;  prisoner 

Sept.,  '64,  Shenandoah  Valley;  dis.  May  22,  '65,  Annapolis. 
Wendover,  John  V.,  44;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  29;  wd. 

twice  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  had  leg  crushed  by  fall  of 

barracks,  July,  '65,  Washington;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d 

N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Williams,  Gordon,  26;  June  29,  '63,  Syracuse;  July  9;  deserted, 

no  date. 
Williamson,  William,  34;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8,  Corp.; 

d.  Dec.  9,  '64,  Auburn. 
Willis,  Wesley,  18;  Aug.  24,  '62,  Fleming;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Feb.  23, 

'63,  Fort  Simmons. 
Winegar,  Lewis,  21;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Winters,  Joseph,  31;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Auburn;   Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Worden,  Charles,  26;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  Sergt, 

Jan.  9, '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Yard,  Benjamin  J.,  44;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  pro 
moted  2d  Lieut.;  had  served  in  Co.  K,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Fawger,  William  B.;  Dec.  21,  Springport;  Dec.  30;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Young,  Edwin,  39;  Aug.  26,  '64,  Owasco;  Aug.  26,  1  year;  no 

M.  O. 
Young,  Henry  H.,  20;  Aug.  6,  '62,  Owasco;  Sept.  8;  d.  Feb.  6, 

'64,  Georgetown,  D.  C. 

COMPANY  K. 

Company  K  was  composite.  Perhaps  the  best  account  of  its 
beginning  is  found  in  the  sketch  of  Captain  Squyer's  life  (vide 
page  440,  but  it  is  quite  in  place  here  to  state  that  the  last 


COMPANY  K. 

1st  Lieut.  Geo.  W.  Swift.  1st  Lieut.  Philip  Sturge. 

Capt  Dennis  Flynn. 
John  Colligan.  W.  G.  Duckett,  Hosp.  Steward  2nd  Bat. 


COMPANY    K.  559 

company  of  the  original  ten  had  men  from  both  Cayuga  and 
Wayne,  though  the  mass  of  them  were  from  the  towns  of  Ira 
and  Galen. 

Ira  came  with  the  captain  and  Galen  with  1st  Lieutenant 
Dennis  Flynn.  There  may  have  been  half  a  dozen  men  from 
western  Wayne,  but  Clyde  gave  the  great  part  of  the  county's 
showing.  The  village  thought  a  deal  of  the  young  lieutenant, 
and  gave  him  a  sword  and  equipments  when  h.e  went  away. 
The  rallying  of  Ira  around  Captain  Squyer  was  a  pleasant  sight, 
and  the  popularity  of  these  officers  never  waned.  The  second 
lieutenancy  fell  to  George  P.  Knapp,  also  of  Cayuga. 

CAPTAINS. 

Irvin  Squyer,  32;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  rank  from  Aug.  27; 

wd.  June  1  and  7,  '64,  Cold  Harbor;  promoted  Major. 
Dennis  E.  Flynn,  from  1st  Lieut.,  Oct.  15,  '64;  rank  from  Sept. 

15  ;M.  O.,  July  6, '65. 

FIRST  LIEUTENANTS. 

Dennis  E.  Flynn,  30;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  rank  from 

Aug.  27;  promoted  Captain. 
George  P.  Knapp,  19;  from  2d  Lieut.,  March  17,  '64;  dis.  March 

28,  '65. 
Philip  Sturge,  from  2d  Lieut.,  Nov.  19,  '64;  rank  from  Sept.  12; 

resigned,  Feb.  2,  '65,  on  account    of    wounds  received  at 

Cedar  Creek  while  acting  Adjutant. 
Lendell  H.  Bigelow,  from  Sergt.,  Co.  F,  March  18  '65;  wd.  April 

2,  '65;  rank  from  March  10;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H. 
A. ;  M.  O.  as  Captain. 

George  W.  Swift,  from  2d  Lieut.,  March  1,  '65;  rank  from  Feb. 

3,  '65;  trans,  to  Co.  F  March  4,  '65. 

SECOND   LIEUTENANTS. 

George  P.  Knapp,  19;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  rank  from 
Aug.  27;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 

Stephen  V.  R.  Cale,  from  Sergt.,  Feb.  17,  '64;  resigned  May  6, 
'64;  also  in  second  enlistment  commissioned  Dec.  10,  '64; 
d.  of  wounds  April  16,  '65. 

Philip  Sturge,  trans,  from  Co.  G  as  2d  Lieut.,  May  17,  '64;  pro 
moted  1st  Lieut. 

George  E.  Clow,  from  Sergt.,  Co.  F,  Feb.  20,  '65;  rank  from 
Jan.  20  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

George  W.  Swift,  from  Sergt.,  Co.  F,  March  1,  '65;  rank  from 
Feb.  4,  '65;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 

Oscar  A.  Foote,  from  Sergt.,  Feb.  3,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

NON-COMMISSIONED  OFFICERS  AND  PRIVATES. 

Abbott,  Hiram  O.,  28;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  29,  1  year;  trans. 
June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


560  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Abbott,  Orrin,  23;  Dec.  14,  '63,  New  Haven;  dis.  July  26,  '65, 

Rochester. 
Abrams,  Andrew  J.,  31;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  lost 

leg,  June  22,  '64,  before  Petersburg;  dis.  Feb.  25,  '65. 
Albright,  Levi,  27;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May  15,  '65, 

Baltimore. 
Allen,  Eli,  18;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  wd.  June  1,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  X.  Y.  H.  A. 
Allen,  James,  44;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  d.  Aug.  4,  '63, 

Fort  Mansfield,  from  accidental  gunshot  wound  in  the  head 

July  27. 
Allen,  William  M.,  38;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  wd.  June, 

'64,  Cold  Harbor;  dis.  May  13,  '65. 

Austin,  Benjamin,  22;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cuyler;  Jan.  4;  wd.  and  pris 
oner  Dec.  31,  '64,  Petersburg;  dis.  June  27,  '65;  Vet.  Co.  H, 

23d  X.  Y.  Vols. 
Autenbury,  George,  44;  July  13,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  k.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Baldwin,  Anson,  19;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Ira;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  prisoner 

Dec.  31,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Baldwin,  John  T.,  18;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  30, 1  year;  d.  Xov. 

28,  '64,  Baltimore. 
Baldwin,  Samuel,  45;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  30,  1  year;  k.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Baldwin,  William  H.,  25;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  29,  1  year; 

wd.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  Sept.  6,  '65. 
Ball,  Henry,  21;  July  20,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Barns,  Stephen,  24;  Feb.  9,  '63,  Galen;  Feb.  9;  wd.  Cold  Har 
bor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  X.  Y.  H.  A. 
Barrett,  Thomas,  40;  Feb.  11,  '63,  Galen;  Feb.  11;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  X.  Y.  H.  A. 
Beers,  George,  22;  Xov.  11,  '63,  Syracuse;  Xov.  12;  deserted 

April  9,  '64. 
Benjamin,  David,  22;  July  18,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  dis.  March 

21,  '63. 
Benton,  Frank  L.,  20;  Sept.  13,  '64,  East  Bloomfield;  Sept.  13, 

1  year;  dis.  June  15,  '65. 
Betts,  Kiel  P.,  18;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Savannah;  Dec.  29;  k.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy. 
Bivins,  James,  25;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Galen,  in  Co.  H;  Sept.  8,  Corp.: 

trans,  to  K  Dec.  18,  '62;  trans,  field  and  staff,  chief  bugler. 
Black,  Cortez,  27;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Clay;  Jan.  4;  deserted  Oct.  18,  '64; 

a  black  deed. 
Black,  Oscar  D.,  30;  Dec.  31,  63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  31;  k.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy. 
Blake,  Charles  K.,  24;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Macedon;  Sept.  3,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Blake,  Lewis  M.,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  d.  Aug.  12,  '63, 

Fort  Gaines. 


COMPANY    K.  561 

Blake,  William,  24;  Jan.  21  '64,  Eaton;  Jan.  21;  trans,  to  16th 

Kegt.,  V.  R.  C. 
Boudiette,  Joseph,  33;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  26;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Bovee,  William  H.,  23;  July  28,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  wd.  acci 
dentally  at  Fort  Bunker  Hill;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65;  also  borne 

as  Dudley  W.  Boyce. 
Bowman,  Edward,  18;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Galen;  Jan.  2;  wd.  June,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bowman,  Walter,  18;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Galen;  Jan.  2;  wd.  Sept.  19, 

'64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Boyce,  Peter,  18;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bracey,  Hiram,  24;  Dec.  22,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  22;  prisoner 

Dec.  31,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bradley,  William,  40;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Auburn;  Sept.  8;  dis.  May 

12,  '64. 

Brewer,  Thomas,  36;  Feb.  6,  '63,  Galen;  Feb.  6;  dis.  Apr.  16,  '63. 
Briggs,  Philip,  21;  Oct.  31,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  24;  Corp.,  Feb. 

26,  '64;  Sergt,  Aug.  29,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y. 
H.  A.;  M.  O.  finally  as  2d  Lieut.;  Vet.  Co.  I,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 

Brown,  George,  44;  Feb.  11,  '64,  Syracuse;  Feb.  11;  no  M.  O. 
Burdick,  Ira  W.,  27;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Spafford;  Dec.  23;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  D,  76th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Burke,  Thomas,  21;  Dec.  7,  '63,  Savannah;  Dec.  7;  Corp.,  Dec. 

18,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Burns,  John,  21;  June  29,  Galen;  June  29;  deserted  July  27,  '64. 
Burton,  Alexander,  32;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Button,  William,  44;  Jan.  1,  '63,  Auburn;  Jan.  1;  murdered  near 

Aqueduct  Bridge,  Georgetown,  Dec.  19,  '63. 
Byron,  Annis,  34;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  26;  prisoner  Dec. 

31,  '64;  drowned  April  24,  '65,  steamer  Black  Diamond.* 


*No thing  in  the  preparation  of  this  book  has  occasioned  more  search 
ing  than  this  Black  Diamond  incident.  The  solution  is  had  in  the  fol 
lowing  despatch  to  a  Baltimore  paper  of  April  26th: 

Fortress  Monroe,  April  25,  1865. 

Yesterday  morning  at  half-past  twelve,  the  ship  Massachusetts, 
carrying  convalescents  and  paroled  prisoners,  collided  with  the  small 
barge  propeller,  Black  Diamond,  used  as  a  picket  boat,  at  anchor  about 
half  a  mile  from  Blackistone  Island.  The  bows  of  the  Massachusetts 
were  badly  stove  in,  and  her  people,  panic-stricken,  seized  planks,  etc., 
and  sprang  into  the  water.  The  Black  Diamond  sank  in  less  than  three 
minutes.  Capt.  J.  M.  Holmes  of  the  Veteran  Reserve  was  in  command 
of  the  men.  He  thought  fifty  men  lost  their  lives. 

This  island  is  a  lighthouse  station,  east  side  of  the  Potomac,  several 
miles  above  its  mouth.  Had  the  men  remained  on  board  the  Massa 
chusetts,  none  of  them  would  have  been  harmed ;  but  there  is  no  rule 
against  panics.  The  death  list  included  Byron,  Gardner  and  Harrington 
from  this  company. 
36 


562  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Caggy,  Pierce,  22;  Nov.  30,  '63,  Syracuse,  in  Co.  L;  Nov.  30; 

trans.  Feb.  6,  '64,  to  Co.  K;  Corp.,  May  1,  '65;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Veteran. 
Cain,  Thomas,  28;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  prisoner 

Dec.  31,  '64,  Weldon  R.  R.;  dis.  June  21,  '65,  Annapolis. 
Cale,  Stephen  V.  R.,  44;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8,  Sergt; 

promoted  2d  Lieut.  Having  resigned  May  6,  '64,  he  appears 

to  have  enlisted  again  from  Camillus,  Sept.  3,  '64,  for  one 

year,  and  is  recorded  as  dying  of  wounds  April  16,  '65. 
Carpenter,  George  W.,  18;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Carris,  Lewis,  23;  Aug.  19,  '64,  Sterling;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Carter,  John,  26;  July  13,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  deserted 

Feb.  14,  '64. 

Chase,  John,  44;  no  descriptive  list;  dis.  June  19,  '65,  Wash 
ington. 
Church,  Warner,  44;  July  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  wd.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  dis.  Aug.  7,  '65. 
Clark,  Charles  M.,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  d.  July  23,  '64, 

from  wounds  received  July  9  at  Monocacy. 
Clark,  Zachariah,  18;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Palermo;  Dec.  31;  d.  Aug.  22, 

'64,  hospital. 
Cole,  Jeremiah,  43;  Jan.  13,  '64,  Eaton;  Jan.  13;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Coleman,  Albert,  18;  Mar.  4,  '63,  Galen;  Mar.  4;  k.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy. 
Coller,  Cornelius,  44;  May  4,  '63,  Ira;  May  4;  dis.  Feb.  7,  '65,  on 

account  of  wounds. 
Colligan,  John,  22;  Sept.  12,  '64,  Macedon;  Sept.  12,  1  year; 

Corp.,  Dec.  18,  '64;  prisoner  before  Petersburg,  Dec.  31,  '64; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Conover,  John,  21;  Aug.  28,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  29,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Coon,  William  H.  H.,  18;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Elbridge;  Dec.  21;  wd. 

Cold  Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cooper,  Barringer,  38;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Galen;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Cooper,  Stephen,  15;  April  4,  '63,  Galen;  April  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  the  same  name  occurs  as  enlisting 

July  30,  '62,  but  was  rejected. 
Corbin,  Nathaniel  L.,  33;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  April 

26,  '64  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Cormick,  John,  42;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Galen;  drowned  Sept.  5,  '62, 

Clyde. 
Couch,  Henry,  26;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Cuyler;  Dec.  29;  k.  June  1,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor. 
Crock,  Edward,  44;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Mexico;  Jan.  1;  dis.  June  6,  '65, 

Frederick,  Md. 


COMPANY   K.  563 

Crowell,  Daniel,  27;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  March 

6,  '65  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Culver,  Alpha  V.,  21;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Cuyler;  Dec.  19;  d.  March  9, 

'64,  Fort  Mansfield. 
Cunningham,  Thomas,  28;  Oct.  8,  '63,  Palmyra;  Nov.  16;  Corp., 

May  1,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Curran,  Patrick,  27;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Seneca  Falls;  Dec.  16;  dis. 

June  19,  '65,  Washington. 
Davis,  Caleb,  31;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 

Dean,  Eobert,  44;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  dis.  Feb.  24,  '65. 
Degolyer,  Edward,  30;  Aug.  24,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  d.  Jan.  6, 

'64,  Fort  Mansfield. 
DeGraff,  John  P.,  39;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  31,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Deroser,  Alexander,  28;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  26;  k.  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy. 
Derosier,  Charles,  30;  Jan.  16,  '64,  Lebanon;  Jan.  16;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  dis.  June  22,  '65. 
Derosier,  Francis  A.,  33;  Jan.  16,  '64,  Lebanon;  Jan.  16;  no 

M.  O. 
Dibble,  Ira,  Jr.,  45;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Moravia;  Aug.  30,  1  year;  dis. 

July  2,  '65,  Fairfax  Seminary. 
Dipley,  Charles,  19;  Dec.  4,  '63,  in  Co.  L;  Dec.  4;  trans,  to  Co.  K 

Feb.  26,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Dockendorf,  Matherson,  26;  Sept.  12,  '64,  Schenectady;  Sept.  12, 

1  year;  dis.  July  24,  '65,  York,  Penn. 
Donohue,  James,  26;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  d.  Sept.  16, 

'62,  Galen. 
Donovan,  James,  21;  Dec.  2,  '63,  Galen,  in  Co.  L;  Dec.  2;  trans. 

to  Co.  K  Feb.  6,  '64;  dis.  May  27,  '65. 
Downs,  Michael,  26;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  d.  March  2, 

'65,  Annapolis,  Md.;  also  carried  as  k.  at  Monocacy  July 

9,  '64. 
Doyle,  Michael,  39;  Sept.  25,  '63,  Galen;  Nov.  25;  trans.  June 

27,  '65.  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Driscoll,  David  H.,  25;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Cold  Har 
bor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Driskell,  Daniel,  38;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Oswego;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Duboys,  Dudley,  32;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Duckett,  Benjamin  E.,  22;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Duckett,  Walter  G.,  21;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  promoted 

field  and  staff,  hospital  steward;  prisoner  at  Monocacy  and 

escaped;  dis.  Aug.  10,  '64. 
Dupros,  Edmund;  18;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  29;  d.  June  4, 

'64,  White  House  Landing,  from  wounds  received  at  Cold 

Harbor. 


564  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Dwyer,  Peter,  18;  March  25,  '63,  Galen;  March  25;  dis.  May 

6,  '63. 
Ebert,  Joseph,  19;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Oswego;  Jan.  2;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Eddy,  Henry  D.,  41;  Nov.  14,  '63,  Syracuse,  in  Co.  L;  Dec.  7; 

trans.  Feb.  6,  '64,  to  Co.  K;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y^ 

H.  A. 
Failing,  John  F.,  20;  Aug.  16,  '62,  Lyons;  Sept.  8;  vid.  field  and 

staff,  hospital  steward. 
Fairweather,  Thomas,  24;  Oct.  26,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  5;  Corp., 

Feb.  26,  '64;  prisoner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Fall,  Giles,  18;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Schroeppel;  Jan.  4;  prisoner  Dec.  31, 

'64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Fall,  Orrin  W.,  19;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Schroeppel;  Jan.  4;  d.  June  29, 

'64,  Washington,  from  wounds  received  at  Cold  Harbor. 
Fish,  Charles  E.,  23;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Galen;  Jan.  5;  dis.  Dec.  27,  '64, 

on  account  of  wounds  received  before  Petersburg. 
Flanders,  William,  27;  Nov.  8,  '63,  Galen,  in  Co.  L;  Nov.  19; 

trans,  to  Co.  K  Feb.  6,  '64;  deserted  June  10,  '64. 
Foley,  Timothy,  22;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  dis.  as  Sergt, 

May  20,  '65. 
Foote,  Oscar  A.,  18;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  Sergt., 

Sept.  8,  '63;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Freeman,  Calvin  B.,  37;  Aug.  27,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  29,  1  year;  dis. 

June  15,  '65. 
Fuller,  Henry,  20;  Dec.  23,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  23;  d.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  on  flag-of -truce  boat  New  York,  en  route  to  Annapolis; 

had  been  prisoner. 
Gannon,  Patrick,  27;  Sept.  23,  '64,  Rochester;  Sept.  28,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Garrity,  Patrick,  42;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  d.  June  14, 

'64,  from  wounds  received  June  4  at  Cold  Harbor. 
Gardner,  Jerome  W.,  20;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Palermo;  Dec.  16;  pris 
oner  Dec.  31,  '64;  drowned  April  24,  '65,  steamer  Black 

Diamond. 
Gelligan,  William,  28;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  21;  deserted 

April  10,  '64. 
Gibson,  Daniel,  21;  June  10,  '63,  Syracuse;  June  10;  dis.  Sept. 

27,  '65. 
Gibson,  Seymour,  25;  Oct.  31,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  24;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gifford,  William  D.,  22;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Ira;  Jan.  4,  '64;  k.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy. 
Golden,  Thomas,  44;  July  20,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 

Gordon,  John,  — ;  Jan.  8,  '63,  Washington,  D.  0.;  Jan.  8,  Ord 
nance  Sergt.;  no  M.  O. 
Gort  Truman,  21;    April  4,  '63,  Galen;  April  4;  deserted  Aug. 

7,  63 ;  anything  but  a  true  man. 


COMPANY    K.  565 

Gray,  Samuel  P.,  43;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Cato;  Jan.  4;  prisoner  Dec. 

31,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Gregory.  Charles,  33;  Aug.  10,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Jan.  13,  '63. 
Green,  DeWitt  C.,  24;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Groom,  Volney  B.,  30;  Aug.  31,  .'64,  Ira;  Sept.  2,  1  year;  dis. 

July  13,  '65,  Philadelphia. 

Guernsey,  Henry,  32;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  dis.  Jan.  25,  '64. 
Hadcock,  Dennis,  30;  Aug.  20,  '64,  Brutus;  Aug.  29,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Hammond,  George,  26;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Feb.  11, 

'64;  Sergt.,  May  1,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Harrington,  William,  24;  Dec.  16,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  16; 

prisoner  Dec.  31,  '64;  drowned  April  24,  '65,  steamer  Black 

Diamond. 
Hebard,  Henry,  21;  June  17,  '63,  Auburn;  June  17;  deserted 

July  29,  '63. 
Hendrick,  Patrick,  34;  Jan.  18,  '64,  Lebanon;  Jan.  18;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  d.  Dec.  18,  '64,  Rochester. 
Hickey,  Michael,  44;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Skaneateles;  Dec.  22;  dis. 

Jan.  12,  '65. 
Hills,  Hiram,  32;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Cuyler;  Dec.  29;  prisoner  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  d.  Nov.  23,  '64^,  Danville,  Va. 
Hilton,  J.  Philip,  33;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Sharon;  Jan.  4;  wd.  Sept.  19, 

'64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Howking,  Elizur,  age  not  given;  Aug.  28,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  29,  1 

year;  d.  Jan.  19,  '65,  field  hospital. 
Howley,  Thomas,  35;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  k.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy. 
Hulett,  Elmer,  35;  Aug.  10,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  deserted  Nov.  27, 

'63. 
Humphrey,  Lafayette,  22;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Corp., 

Feb.  11,  '64;  Sergt.,  Dec.  18,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Hutchins,  Alfred,  32;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  dis.  March 

21,  '63. 

Hutchins,  Andrew  J.,  26;  July  30,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  pris 
oner  July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  dis.  June  13,  '65,  Annapolis. 
Ide,  Daniel,  18;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  26;  k.  Dec.  30,  '64, 

picket  line  before  Petersburg. 
Jackson,  Andrew,  44;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Auburn;  Aug.  29,  1  year; 

prisoner  Dec.  31,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
James,  John  F.,  20;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Palermo;  Dec.  21;  trans.  June 

27, '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Johnson,  Calvin  C.,  17;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Lysander;  Dec.  28;  no  M.  O. 
Kelley,  James,  20;  Dec.  20,  '63,  Fayette;  Dec.  29;  dis.  June  9, 

'64,  Baltimore. 
Kevand,  John,  22;  Jan.  2,  '62,  Sharon;  Jan.  2;  Sergt.,  June  24, 

'65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Kiefer,  Barnetto,  38;  Sept.  4,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  k.  Sept.  19,  '64, 

Winchester. 


566  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Killy,  Lawrence,  18;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Phelps;  Dec.  26;  d.  April  30, 

'65,  Phelps. 
Kilmer,  Ezra  W.,  25;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  trans.  V.  R.  G., 

no  date. 
Kilmer,  William  A.,  33;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  d.  March  8, 

'64,  Fort  Mansfield. 
King,  Andrew  J.,  21;  Dec.  12,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet.  Co.  G, 

8th  N.  Y.  Cav. 
King,  Obadiah,  23;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Feb.  18,  '63; 

Sergt,  Oct.  23,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Kinsella,  John,  26;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  no  date; 

Sergt.,  Sept.  8;  wd.  Sept.  19,  '64,  Winchester;  dis.  June  17, 

'65. 
Kline,  Valentine,  28;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Wolcott;  1  year;  dis.  June  26, 

'65,  Washington. 
Kyle,  John,  35;  Nov.  11,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  12;  deserted  March 

28,  '64. 
Lawrence,  George,  44;  Nov.  27,  '63,  Syracuse,  in  Co.  L;  Dec.  2; 

trans,  to  K  Feb.  6,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lee,  James,  33;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Ira;  Jan.  2,  '64;  d.  June  11,  '64, 

from  wounds  received  at  Cold  Harbor. 
Livingstone,  George,  27;  Aug.  25,  '64,  Ira;  Sept.  2,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
McDougal,  Samuel  N.,  43;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  31;  k.  June 

1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor. 
McDougal,  William  T.,  18;  March  9,  '63,  Galen;  March  9;  dis. 

May  15,  '65. 
Mack,  Philander,  27;  March  25,  '63,  Galen;  March  25;  deserted 

May  7,  '63. 
MeKenney,  Luke,  44;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  14;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McKnight,  Michael,  35;  July  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  prisoner 

Dec.  31,  '64;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
McLeod,  Peter,  18;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Lysander;  Dec.  21;  d.  July  13, 

'64,  Baltimore. 
McMaster,  John  S.,  29;  Aug.  23,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8,  1st  Sergt; 

promoted  1st  Lieut.  Co.  G. 
Mann,  George,  40;  Nov.  15,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  24;  d.  July  27, 

'63,  Frederick,  Md.,  from  wounds  received  at  Monocacy; 

Vet.  Co.  H,  lllth  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Marion,  Lewis,  27;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  26;  d.  Sept.  3,  '64, 

Oswego;  Vet.  Co.  E,  35th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Mead,  Jeremiah,  35;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  k.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy. 
Miller,  Pice,  44;  Sept.  13,  '64,  Sodus;  Sept.  14,  1  year;  d.  Feb. 

9,  '65,  City  Point. 
Miney,  Frederick,  37;  Sept.  1,  '63,  Lyons;  Nov.  19;  deserted  Apr. 

30,  '64. 
Mintonye,  Elbert,  20;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  29,  1  year;  d.  Dec. 

9,  '64,  City  Point. 


COMPANY   K.  567 

Mitchell,  Edward,  27;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Williamson;  Sept.  8;  de 
serted  Sept.  11,  '62. 
Monroe,  Caleb  N.,  22;  July  13,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  d.  April  7, 

'65,  Baltimore. 
Morgan,  Patrick  J.,  24;  Aug.  18,  '62,  Galen;  Sept  8,  Sergt;  1st 

Sergt.,  Feb.  25,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Moriarty,  Michael,  27;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  dis.  June  19, 

'65,  Frederick,  Md. 

Morris,  Clark,  34;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Morrison,  Dennis,  25;  Dec.  12,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  17;  Corp., 

May  1,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Morser,  Jacob,  47;  Sept.  16,  Williamstown ;  Sept.  17,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Mosher,  James  A.,  32;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8,  Sergt.;  trans. 

Jan.  21,  '64,  V.  K.  C. 
Moss,  Charles  F.,  18;  Ang.  13,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  d.  Sept.  18,  '64, 

hospital,  Fort  Reno. 
Mulany,  Wilson  H.,  44;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  dis.  March 

15,  '65;  borne  also  as  Melaney. 
Murray,  Michael,  38;  Dec.  2,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  28;  trans.  June 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Myres,  Anthony,  43;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Nichols,  Alvah,  32;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Ira;  Jan.  2,  '64;  dis.  Jan.  31,  '65. 
Norton,  William,  22;  Sept.  12,  '64,  Hopewell;  Sept.  15,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
O'Brien,  Marcus,  18;  July  9,  '63,  Galen;  July  9;  deserted  Feb. 

14,  '64. 
Olds,  James,  38;  Jan.  14,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  15;  prisoner  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Owens,  Lucius,  18;  Jan.  13,  '63,  Galen;  Jan.  13;  trans.  Dec.  27, 

'64,  V.  R.  C. 
Page,  F.  Webster,  18;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Fabius;  Dec.  19;  d.  March 

26,  '64,  Fort  Mansfield. 
Parsons,  Myron,  27;  Nov.  17,  '63,  Galen;  Nov.  19;  deserted  Mar. 

24,  '64. 
Peckham,  George  H.,  18;  Dec.  21,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  21; 

prisoner  Dec.  31,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Pendleton,  William,  21;  Nov.  4,  '63,  Auburn,  in  Co.  L;  Nov.  12; 

trans,  to  K  Feb.  6,  '64;  deserted  June  10,  '64. 
Penner,  Adalbert,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Palermo;  Jan.  4;  k.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy. 

Pero,  Donti,  35;  Jan.  16,  '64,  Eaton;  Jan.  16;  dis.  June  13,  '65. 
Pettie,  Edgar  C.,  18;  Nov.  18,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  2;  prisoner  at 

Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Phillips,  Nathan,  26;  Sept.  16,  '64,  Williamson;  Sept.  16, 1  year; 

absent  sick  at  M.  O. 
Pierce,  Charles  O.,  23;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Feb.  11, 

'64;  prisoner  at  Monocacy;  dis.  June  30,  '65,  Elmira. 


568  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Finder,  Owen,  18;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  23;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Prichard,  Allen  B.,  34;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Prine,  Charles,  18;  Nov.  21,  '63,  Ira;  Dec.  2;  k.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy. 
Reed,  Hiram  A.,  26;  Sept.  6,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  k.  June  9,  '64, 

Cold  Harbor. 
Keid,  John  D.,  36;  July  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  k.  July  9,  '6-i, 

Monocacy. 
Riley,  Barney,  21;  Jan.  19,  '64,  Sullivan;  Jan.  19;  prisoner  Dec. 

31,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Robinson,  Orville  T.,  24;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Sharon;  Jan.  4;  dis.  June 

1,  '65. 
Scott,  John,  42;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cuyler;  Jan.  15;  d.  Sept.  15,  '64, 

Baltimore. 
Sherman,  Charles  H.,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  March 

6,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Smith,  George  P.,  18;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Galen;  Jan.  5;  no  M.  O. 
Snyder,  Calvin,  18;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  31,  1  year;  d.  Feb. 

6,  '65,  City  Point. 
Snyder,  John  Wv  27;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  ^prisoner  at 

Monocacy  July  9,  '64;  d.  at  Parole  Camp,  Annapolis,  Feb. 

28,  '65. 

Snyder,  William  H.,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Cold  Har 
bor;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Southard,  John,  29;  July  25,  '64,  Auburn;  Aug.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Sova,  James  S.,  21;  Dec.  17,  '63;  Dec.  30;  wd.  Cold  Harbor; 

deserted  Dec.  31,  '64. 
Sparks,  George.  35;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Volney;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Spencer,  Herman.  19;  Dec.  16,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  16;  wd. 

Cold  Harbor;  dis.  March  23,  '65. 
Spickerman,  John,  42;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  31,  1  year;  dis. 

May  29,  '65. 
Steel,  William  H.,  30;  Nov.  16,  '63,  Galen;  Nov.  19;  d.  Nov.  14, 

'64,  a  prisoner  at  Danville,  Va. 
Sturge,  John  M.,  19;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  k.  June 

1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor. 
Sturge,  Philip,  25;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8,  Sergt;  promoted 

2d  Lieut.  Co.  G. 
Sullivan,  Cornelius,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Ledyard;  Jan.  4;  d.  March 

13,  '65,  Annapolis. 
Sullivan,  Michael,  40;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  21;  k.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy. 
Sullivan,  Thomas,  26;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65.      , 

Taylor,  Charles  W.,  18;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  M.  O., 
*  July  6,  '65. 


COMPANY    K.  569 

Teller,  Isaac  L.,  20;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  21;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Teller,  James  E.,  23;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  31,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Telyea,  Lewis,  22;  Jan.  16,  '64,  Lebanon;  Jan.  16;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Temple,  Daniel  E.,  18;  Aug.  20,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 
Terpenning,  Wallace,  23;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Oct. 

23,  '64;  Sergt.,  May  1,  '65;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Thomas,  John  C.,  33;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  31,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 

Tillow,  Wilhelmus,  19;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Butler;  Sept.  8;  no  M.  O. 
Toomey,  James,  38;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Townsend,  James,  22;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Mentz;  Dec.  31;  d.  Nov.  23, 

'64,  a  prisoner  at  Danville,  Va. 
Townsend,  William  J.,  25;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Volney;  Jan.  4;  d.  March 

6,  '64,  Fort  Mansfield. 

Tripp,  Culver,  40;  July  30,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  dis.  July  29,  '63. 
Underwood,  John,  22;  Sept.  12,  '64,  East  Bloomfield;  Sept.  12, 

1  year;  trans.,  no  date,  Co.  K,  llth  Regt,  V.  K.  C. 
Vorce,  David,  24;  Feb.  22,  '63,  Galen;  Feb.  22;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Wallace,  Daniel  D.,  31;  Jan.  3,  '64,  Ira;  Jan.  3;  dis.  June  28,  '65. 
Wallace,  Patrick,  37;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  16;  trans, 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Welch,  John,  32;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Galen;  Corp.,  June  18,  '63;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 

West,  Alonzo,  35;  July  31,  '62,  Galen;  Sept.  8;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Wheater,  Benjamin  E.,  43;  Aug.  11,  '62,  Williamson;  Sept.  8; 

d.  Aug.  14,  '64,  a  prisoner  at  Danville,  Va. 
Wheeler,  William,  38;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  26;  dis.  July 

6,  '65,  Washington. 
Whipple,  John  L.,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8;  Corp.,  Dec.  18, 

'64  ;M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Wilbur,  Henry  J.,  40;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  29,  1  year;  dis. 

June  30,  '65,  Washington. 
Wilder,  Henry,  40;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Mentz;  Sept.  8;  Musician;  dis. 

July  29,  '63. 
Wiles,  William,  19;  Dec.  14,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  14;  k.  June 

1,  '64,  Cold  Harbor. 
Wilson,  Amos,  32;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Ira;  Sept.  8,  Corp.;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  trans,  as  Sergt.,  April  7,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 
Wincheli,  Augustus;  44;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Cicero;  Dec.  24;  dis.  Mar. 

17,  '65,  on  account  of  wounds  received  in  action. 
Wing,  Henry  O.,  20;  Dec.  14,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  14;  d.,  Corp., 

Dec.  27,  '64,  field  hospital. 
Winne,  Barnard,  18;  July  4,  '63,  Galen;  July  4;  deserted  Nov. 

13,  '63. 


570  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Woodruff,  Alson,  21;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Fabius;  Dec.  19;  d.  July  2, 
'64,  field  hospital. 

COMPANY  L. 

When  it  became  evident  that  more  men  must  be  had  to  make 
up  the  maximum  required,  under  the  change  from  infantry  to 
heavy  artillery,  commissions  were  given  to  several  men  in  the 
old  companies  to  recruit,  among  them  F.  A.  Sinclair  of  Com 
pany  I,  and,  as  he  rendered  the  best  account  of  himself,  to  him 
fell  the  captaincy,  and  S.  Augustus  Howe,  who  had  been  an 
excellent  soldier  in  the  24th  N.  Y.  Infantry,  was  commissioned 
senior  1st  lieutenant.  'Tis  said  that  there  was  much  bickering 
over  the  placing  of  officers  in  this  company,  but  notwithstand 
ing  the  men  gave  a  first-class  account  of  themselves. 
Let  a  veteran  of  the  company  give  his  own  story : 
"Some  one  has  said  that  Company  L  came  from  nowhere  in 
particular,  but  were  'from  all  over  the  lots,'  which  was  true  in 
a  large  measure.  Oswego  county  gave  quite  a  large  delegation 
and  Oswego  canal  a  larger  one;  beyond  those  they  scattered 
badly,  but  they  were  as  good  a  set  of  men  as  one  could  find  in 
a  day's  march.  They  were  pretty  full  of  ginger  sometimes,  so 
much  so  that  profane  persons  have  been  known  to  allude  to 
them  as  'Company  H — 1.'  There  were  some  men  who  would 
have  a  good  time  whether  or  no.  John  H.  H.,  Billy  G.,  and 
others,  as  a  general  thing,  kept  the  boys  laughing  with  their 
wit  and  nonsense.  Even  when  feet  were  bloody  through  blisters 
and  long  marches,  "John  Henry"  used  to  run  the  company  much 
as  though  the  boys  were  on  the  'raging  canawl,'  hailing  other 
regiments  to  know  what  they  were  loaded  with,  or  asking  them 
to  pass  our  line  over  theirs.  No  Company  L  man  can  forget  the 
way  he  would  roar  out,  'W-h-o-a,  snub  her  up!  Bring  them 
mules  on  board!'  this  when  the  company  stopped  for  rest  or 
for  the  night.  We  always  had  our  kits  for  play  when  in  bar 
racks  or  camp  about  Washington;  football,  boxing-gloves,  fid 
dles  and  bass  viols,  with  nearly  every  other  musical  instrument 
excepting  pianos  and  church  organs  (the  boys  could  play  them, 
too)  were  reached  for  whenever  we  had  a  chance  to  pause 
awhile,  but  when  we  started  for  the  front  they  were  boxed  up 
and  left  in  Washington." 

CAPTAINS. 

Frank  A.  Sinclair,  from  Company  I,  Feb.  22,  '64;  rank  from 
Feb.  15;  wd.  June  19,  '64,  near  Petersburg;  dis.  Nov.  28,  '64. 

S.  Augustus  Howe,  from  1st  Lieut.,  Dec.  24,  '64 ;  rank  from  Nov. 
28;  M.  O.  with  regiment  July  6,  '65. 

FIRST  LIEUTENANTS. 

S.  Augustus  Howe,  24;  Feb.  23,  '64,  Oswego;  rank  from  Dec.  6, 
'63;  promoted  Captain.  Had  served  an  enlistment  in  the 
24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 


COMPANY    L. 

Capt.  F.  A.  Sinclair.           Capt.  S.  A.  Howe.  Lieut  W.  W.  Sinclair. 

Geo.  Stacey  and  wife.     Lieut.  Chas.  Robinson.  Anthony  Stacey. 

Lieut.  John  Stoyell.          Lieut.  T   D.  Quick.  Lieut.  E.  L.  Huntington. 


COMPANY   L.  571 

Joseph  W.  Jewhurst,  from  Sergt,  Co.  I,  Febv23,  '64;  rank  from 

Feb.  15;  promoted  Captain  Co.  H. 
William  W.  Sinclair,  trans,  from  Co.  C,  March  15,  '65;  M.  O. 

with  regiment  July  6,  '65. 
John  W.  Fitzpatrick,  from  2d  Lieut.,  March  1,  '65;  rank  from 

Feb.  3;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

SECOND   LIEUTENANTS. 

William  W.  Sinclair,  from  Co.  I,  Feb.  15,  '64;  promoted  1st 

Lieut.  Co.  C. 

Charles  Y.  Squier,  29;  Feb.  2,3,  '64,  Washington;  dis.  Jan.  4,  '65. 
John  W.  Fitzpatrick,  from  1st  Sergt,  Dec.  15, '64 ;  rank  from 

Oct.  25;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Theodore  D.  Quick,  from  Sergt.,  Feb.  4,  '65;  rank  from  Dec.  21, 

'64;  M.  O.  with  regiment  July  6,  '65. 
Charles  Robinson,  from  1st  Sergt.,  March  30,  '65;  rank  from 

Feb.  28;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  M.  O.  as  1st 

Lieut. 

NON-COMMISSIONED  OFFICERS  AND  PRIVATES. 

Abbott,  Andrew  J.,  26;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  15;  no  M.  O. 
Allen,  Seneca  P.,  23;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Onondaga;  prisoner  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Alpeter,  George  H,,  19;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  15;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek;  dis.  June  9,  '65. 
Andrews,  Aura  J.,  18;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Lafayette;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Askey,  David,  21;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  17;  Corp.,  Feb.  11, 

'64;  Sergt.,  Jan.  1,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Auyer,  Roruain,  25;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  2;  dis.  May 

23,  '65. 
Babbitt,  Charles  L.,  25;  Dec.  7,  '63;  Dec.  15;  prisoner  Oct.  19. 

'64,  Cedar  Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  Vet 

Co.  I,  12th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Balliett,  Andrew  J.,  18;  July  30,  '64,  Mentz;  July  30,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Barber,  Eugene,  21;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  23;  deserted 

July  23,  '64;  Vet.  Co.  1, 12th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Barber,  John  A.,  20;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

wd.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Barry,  Patrick,  28;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  22;  badly  in 
jured  by  battery  team  at  Cold  Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65, 

2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bell,  James,  24;  March  26,  '64,  Mendon;  April  6;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2dN.  Y.  H.  A.;  Veteran. 

Bellville,  Henry,  30;  Nov.  9,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  9;  no  M.  O. 
Bennett,  Elisha  L.,  Sr.,  44;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  31;  de 
serted  May  26,  '64. 


572  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Bennett,  Elisha  L.,  Jr.,  18;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  31;  de 
serted  Dec.  4,  '64.  "Like  father,  like  son;"  both  false 
prophets. 

Bennett,  William,  29;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Fabius;  Dec.  21;  dis.  July 
18,  '65. 

Bilkey,  Edward,  20;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Scriba;  Dec.  21;  trans.  June 
27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.  Vet.  Co.  C,  24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 

Bostock,  James,  27;  Jan.  8,  '64,  Onondaga;  Jan.  8;  no  M.  O. 

Brant,  Bela  B.,  23;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  19;  k.  Oct.  19, 
'64,  Cedar  Creek;  Vet.  Co.  C,  24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 

Brown,  Charles  A.,  21;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Scipio;  Dec.  26;  trans.  June 
27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Buck,  Daniel,  34;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  30;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Burdell,  George,  22;  Dec.  20,  '63,  Niles;  Jan.  2;  prisoner  Sept. 

28,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Campbell,  Leland  E.,  18;  Oct.  24,  '63,  Oswego;  Nov.  12;  dis. 

Dec.  20,  '64. 
Carey,  Timothy,  25 ;  Nov.  6,  '63,  Oswego ;  Nov.  24 ;  deserted  Apr. 

13,  '64. 
Carlton,  Frederick,  19;  Nov.  30,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  2;  prisoner 

Sept.  28,  '64,  in  the  Valley;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y. 

H.  A. 
Carpenter,  Orlando,  19;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Watertown;  Feb.  19;  dis. 

July  19,  '65.    Veteran. 
Carrier,  Silas,  21;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Montezuma;  Jan.  4,  '64;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Carrier,  Vaughn  D.,  18;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Throop;  Dec.  31;  dis.  May 

18,^65. 
Carroll,  William,  19;  Dec.  26,  Covert;  Dec.  26;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Case,  George  A.,  26;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  23;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Veteran. 
Casevand,  Levi,  24;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Geddes;  Jan.  2;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Catlin,  David,  44;  Nov.  2,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  12;  dis.  June  26,  '65. 
Chilton,  Spencer,  18;  Oct.  24,  '63,  Oswego;  Nov.  12;  dis.  June 

14,  '65. 
Churchill,  Charles  K.,  39;  Feb.  22,  '64,  Scriba;  Feb.  22;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Clark,  Charles  M.,  24;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Waterloo;  Dec.  15;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Clark,  James,  21 ;  Oct.  24,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  5;  Corp.,  April  1, 

'64;  Sergt,  Dec.  1,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cook,  Clement,  36;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Sullivan;  Dec.  14;  wd.  June, 

'64,  Cold  Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cook,  John  W.,  21;  Nov.  14,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  14;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Cooper,  George  W.,  18;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Sept.  2, 1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 


COMPANY    L.  573 

Cooper,  John  S.,  33;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  15;  no  M.  O. 
Cowan,  Albertus,  Jr.,  18;  Nov.  14,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  2;  d.  Mar. 

25,  '64,  Fort  Simmons. 

Crooks,  George,  41;  Oct.  17,  '63,  Auburn;  Oct.  17;  no  M.  O. 
Crouch,  Henry,  35;  Nov.  12,  '63,  Oswego;  Nov.  24;  dis.  July 

18,  '65. 
Cumniings,  Lawrence,  21;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  17;  dis. 

Aug.  29,  '65. 
Dakin,  Timothy,  44;  Nov.  27,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  2;  dis.  Dec. 

22,  '64. 
Dandy,  Thomas  W.,  18;  Oct.  20,  '63,  Oswego;  Nov.  12;  trans. 

as  Corp.  May,  '64,  to  U.  S.  Navy. 
Davenport,  Umphrey,  18;  Nov.  21,  '63,  Moravia;  Nov.  21;  no 

M.  O. 

Decker,  Peleg  V.,  21;  Nov.  18,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  18;  no  M.  O. 
Deland,  William,  27;  Dec.  11,  '63,  Cicero;  Dec.  12;  no  M.  O. 
Denny,  Paul,  27;  Dec.  14,  '63,  22d  N.  Y.  Dist;  Dec.  14;  deserted 

May  6,  '64. 
Denny,  Peter,  30;  Dec.  14,  '63,  22d  N.  Y.  Dist.;  Dec.  14;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Doan,  Edwin,  28;  Oct.  27,  '63,  Auburn;  Oct.  27;  no  M.  O. 
Dodge,  Isaac,  24;  Oct.  29,  '63,  Auburn;  Jan.  18,  '64;  dis.  July 

13,  '65. 
Doran,  John,  21;  Nov.  10,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  10;  no  M.  O.;  Vet. 

3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Dozer,  Frederick,  26;  Oct.  19,  '63,  Oswego;  Nov.  24;  k.  in  camp 

of  8th  N.  Y.  H.  A.,  Feb.  18,  '65.  Vet.  Co.  B,  24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Dubois,  Valentine,  23;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Volney;  Dec.  16;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Vet.  24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Dunbar,  Alonzo,  23;  Nov.  19,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  19;  no  M.  O. 
Edgerton,  William,  37;  Nov.  12,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  24;  pro 
moted,  April  17,  '65,  2d  Lieut.,  10th  U.  S.  C.  H.  A. 
Fields,  George,  18;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  19;  d.  Aug.  21, 

'64,  Washington. 
Fitch,  George  M.,  21;  Dec.  24,  '64,  Syracuse;  Dec.  24;  k.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Fitzpatrick,  John  W.,  20;  Oct.  20,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  12;  1st 

Sergt.,  Feb.  1,  '64;  promoted  2d  Lieut.    Veteran. 
Flynn,  Thomas  S.,  18;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Auburn;  Jan.  4,  '64;  wd. 

Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Ford,  Charles  A.,  19;  Jan.  9,  '64,  Homer;  Jan.  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Fralich,  Zachariah,  23;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  19;  Artificer, 

no  date;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Fredenburgh,  Andrew,  19;  Oct.  19,  '63,  Elbridge;  Dec.  2;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Vet.  12th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Garnet,  Robert,  40;  Dec.  6,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  9;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Veteran ;  also  borne  as  Gamel. 
Garrison,  Edward  H.,  38;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  7;  Musi 
cian,  no  date;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


574  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Garrison,  Willie  J.,  13 ;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Auburn ;  Nov.  23,  Musician 

dis.  June  15,  '65. 
Geary,,  James,  19;  Jan.  13,  '64,  Geddes;  Jan.  13;  deserted  Jan. 

10,  '65. 
Geary,  William,  29;  Jan.  13,  '64,  Geddes;  Jan.  13;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gering,  John,  23;  Nov.  30,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gillis,  John  P.,  23;  Dec.  7,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  7;  deserted  May 

27,  '64. 
Glassford,  Benjamin  T.,  26;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  24;  dis. 

June  14,  '65. 
Grantier,  George,  21;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Scriba;  Dec.  16;  dis.  Aug.  8, 

'65.    Vet.  Co.  B,  24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Greggs,  Julius  B.,  33;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Owasco;  Jan.  4,  '64;  deserted 

July  23,  '64. 

Gregson,  Frank,  18;  Jan.  7,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  8;  dis.  Jan.  15,  '65. 
Hadden,  George,  18;  Nov.  17,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  24;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hall,  George,  33;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  16;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Vet.  Co.  C,  24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Hall,  Henry  H.,  22;  Nov.  12,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  24;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.  Veteran. 
Hammond,  Sidney  B.,  24;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Scriba;  Dec.  24;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Handwright,  Daniel,  32;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  26;  Corp., 

Jan.  1,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Haskins,  Benjamin  F.,  18;  Nov.  9,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  24;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hayhoe,  Henry^  29;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

k.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Heath,  Peter,  20;  Nov.  30,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  9;  deserted  Oct.  10, 

'64;  a  regular  heathen. 
Heath,  William  T.,  20;  Aug.  1,  '64,  Rochester;  Aug.  1;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Henry,  Charles  G.,  19;  Nov.  10,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  24;  d.  July 

21,  '64,  hospital,  New  York. 
Heustis,  Horatio  N.,  27;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  24;  Corp., 

no  date;  wd.  June  19,  '64,  before  Petersburg;  dis.  Julv  24, 

'65. 
Hewitt,  Thomas,  21;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  17;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hicks,  James  WT.,  20;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  7;  trans.,  May 

1,  '65,  37th  Co.,  2d  Bat.,  V.  B.  C. 

Hill,  Charles,  20;  Nov.  14,  '63,  Oswego;  Nov.  14;  no  M.  O. 
Himes,  Lucius  P.,  24;  Dec.  18,  '64,  Scriba;  Dec.  18;  k.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Hollister,  Henry  K.,  18;  Nov.  9,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  24;  Corp., 

Feb.  1,  '64;  Sergt,  May  1,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y. 

H.A. 


COMPANY    L.  575 

Hoover,  Daniel,  34;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  22;  deserted 

May  4,  '64. 
Horton,  Charles  A.,  19;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  2;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hoyt,  James  L.,  18;  Jan.  7,  '64,  Onondaga;  Jan.  7;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hoyt,  Ossian  M.,  21;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  7;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hubbard,  Henry  C.,  28;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Scriba;  Dec.  24;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Hubbard,  Luke,  18;  July  6,  '64,  Norwich;  July  6;  M.  O.,  Oct. 

18,  '65,  Elmira. 

Hudson,  William  T.,  21;  Aug.  1,  '64,  Rochester;  Aug.  1,  1  year; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Huntington,  Edwin  L.,  23;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  14;  Sergt., 

Feb.  11,  '64;  1st  Sergt.,  May  21,  '65;  wd.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar 

Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  promoted  2d 

Lieut.    Vet.  Co.  B,  24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Huntington,  Lewis  J.,  19;  Feb.  26,  '64,  Mexico;  Feb.  26;  d.  July 

9,  '64,  Washington. 
Hurtubise,  Stephen,  29;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  26;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  May  29,  '65. 

Hutchins,  Samuel,  23;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  14;  d.  Dec. 

2,  '64.    Veteran. 
Jackson,  John,  18;  Dec.  2,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  24;  k.  Oct.  19,  '64, 

Cedar  Creek.    Vet.  Co  D,  3d  N.  Y.  L.  A. 
Jackson,  Thomas,  20;  Oct.  21,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  2;  wd.  Cedar 

Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Vet.  Co.  D,  3d  N. 

Y.  L.  A. 
Jacobs,  William  H.,  26;  Nov.  27,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  27;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Jaquay,  Reuben,  19;  Dec.  8,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  8;  Bugler,  no 

date:  d.  Sept.  8,  '64,  prisoner  at  Andersonville,  Ga. 
Johnson,  John,  39;  Nov.  9,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  24;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Johnson,  William,  18;  Nov.  12,  '63,  Albany;  Nov.  12;  no  M.  O. 
Jones,  Milton,  20;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Scriba;  Dec.  18;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Jordan,  Joseph  H.,  33;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  21;  deserted 

Nov.  26,  '64,  which  was  the  "other  side  of  Jordan." 
June,  Morris,  18;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  21;  lost  leg  at 

Cedar  Creek;  dis.  May  13,  '65. 
Kaufman,  George,  26;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  10;  Corp., 

no  date;  dis.  July  24,  '65.  Vet.  Co.  H,  12th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Kaye,  William,  35;  Dec.  3,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  3;  no  M.  O. 
Keller,  John,  24;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Sullivan;  Dec.  14;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Kennedy,  Michael,  18;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  16;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


576  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Kibble,  Almond  M.,  29;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Fabius;  Dec.  19;  wd.  Cedar 
Creek;  Sergt.,  no  date;  dis.  July  12,  '65.  Veteran. 

Kingsley,  Seth  H.,  19;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  23;  trans. 
June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.  Veteran. 

Knapp,  Henry  Z.,  25;  Oct.  29,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  12;  dis.  July 

26,  '65,  Syracuse. 

Lagrange,  William,  24;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  4;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Laughlin,  George,  20;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Varick;  Dec.  31;  trans.  June 

27, '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Leffingwell,  William  H.,  26;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Camden;  Dec.  23;  d. 

July  29,  '64,  Washington. 
Little,  Henry  F.,  22;  Oct.  20,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  7;  dis.  Aug.  29, 

'65.    Veteran. 
Long,  William  E.,  30;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Scriba;  Dec.  19;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

McGill,  Frank,  30;  Oct.  26,  '63,  Oswego;  Nov.  12;  trans,  to  U.  S. 

Navy  May,  '64.    Vet.  Co.  F,  24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
McGovern,  Thomas,  21;  Nov.  3,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  2;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Vet.  Co.  D,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
McGowan,  Robert  E.,  41;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Fabius;  Dec.  28,  Bugler; 

dis.  Feb.  16,  '65. 
McMahon,  Daniel,  37;  Nov.  9,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  12;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Vet.  Co.  C,  24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
McManus,  Edward,  26;  Nov.  17,  '63,  Marcellus;  Dec.  2;  dis.  May 

15,  '65. 
McManus,  William,  22;  Nov.  28,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  7;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Vet.  Co.  H,  12th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Mansfield,  Eupert  E.,  18;  Nov.  9,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  24;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Marion,  Napoleon,  20;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  19;  trans. 

June  27, '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Marshall,  George,  24;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Geneva;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  V>5,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Martin,  George,  27;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Clay;  Dec.  21;  Corp.,  Feb.  11, 

'64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Veteran. 
Mead,  Stephen  E.,  19;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  2;  trans.  June 

27,  '65.  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Miller,  John  J.,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Milliken,  William,  26;  Nov.  7,  '63,  Oswego;  Nov.  24;  dis.  Aug. 

9,  '65,  Elmira.    Vet.  Co.  B,  24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Mix,  George,  18;  Nov.  20,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  2;  d.  Feb.  3,  '65, 

hospital,  City  Point,  Va. 
Mosner,  Peter,  18;  Nov.  27,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  2;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Mulvey,  Frank,  20;  Nov.  9,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  24;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Munroe,  George  C.,  21;  Nov.  18,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  9;  commis 
sioned  2d  Lieut.,  May  23,  '64,  not  mustered;  dis.  Aug.  29, 


COMPANY    L.  577 

'64,  for  promotion  2d  Lieut.,  13th  U.  S.  C.  A.    Vet.  Go.  I, 

24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Murphy,  Thomas,  22;  Nov.  9,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  2;  trans.  June 

27,  ;f>5,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Murray,  Thomas,  26;  Dec.  3,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  9;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Northrup,  George,  22;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
O'Brien,  Patrick,  23;  Jan.  6,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  6;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
O'Connor,  Benjamin,  32;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  22;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
O'Donnell,  Michael,  44;  Oct.  22,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  5;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Veteran. 
O'Hara,  John,  21;  Dec.  4,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  4;  no  M.  O. 
Page,  Seneca,  44;  Nov.  26,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  2;  Artificer;  d.  Apr. 

2,  '65,  hospital,  Alexandria. 
Parker,  Melvin,  42;  July  25,  '64,  8th  N.  Y.  Dist;  July  25;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Pereaux,  Peter,  29;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  21;  wd.  at  Battery 

Lee,  no  date;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Pike,  George  A.,  19;  Aug.  6,  '64,  Rochester;  Aug.  6;  trans.  June 

27,  '05,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Preston,  Thomas,  23;  Oct.  21,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  9;  Sergt,  no 

date;  d.  Aug.  11,  '64,  hospital,  Fort  Reno.    Vet.  Co.  C,  24th 

N.  Y.  Vols. 
Prosser,  Garrett  S.,  22;  Nov.  30,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  30;  d.  Jan. 

11,  '64,  Fort  Simmons. 
Quick,  Theodore  D.,  37;  Nov.  4,  '63,  Owasco;  Dec.  2;  Sergt,  Feb. 

1,  '64;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Radway,  Fred  P.,  20;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  29;  Corp., 

Feb.  11,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Reidy,  Maurice,  21;  Oct.  28,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Richardson,  Stephen  C.,  41;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Skaneateles;  Dec.  22; 

d.  March  18,  '64,  Fort  Simmons. 
Robinson,  Charles,  22;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  9;  Sergt,  Feb. 

1,  '64;  1st  Sergt.,  Jan.  1,  '65;  promoted  2d  Lieut.    Vet.  Co. 

B,  24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Rockfellow,  Victor  S.,  28;  March  30,  '64,  Hastings;  March  30; 

dis.  as  Corp.,  July  25,  '65. 
Rowe,  Francis  E.,  18;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Onondaga;  Jan.  1;  dis.  Aug. 

23,  '64. 
Ryan,  Patrick,  18;  Nov.  20,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  24;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Sayles,  John  B.,  33;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Skaneateles;  Dec.  28;  d.  March 

15, 764,  Fort  Simmons. 
Searles,  Wilbur,  21;  Nov.  13,  '63,  Oswego;  Nov.  24;  Corp.,  Jan. 

1,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Vet.  24th  N.  Y. 

Vols. 
37 


578  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Sinclair,  James  P.,  27;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Cayuga;  Jan.  4;  dis.  Jan. 

10,  '65. 

Skinner,  Edson  C.,  25;  Dec.  25,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  25;  trans.  Jan. 

23,  '65,  81st  Co.,  2d  Bat.,  V.  E.  C. 
Sliney,  Thomas,  26;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  26;  Corp.,  Feb. 

11,  '64;  Sergt,  Jan.  1,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H. 
A.    Vet.  Co.  F,  24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 

Smith,  George,  21;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Galen;  Jan.  5;  deserted  Jan.  10, 

'65. 
Smith,  John,  43;  Nov.  18,  '63,  Salina;  Dec.  7;  absent  sick  from 

Sept.  20,  '64. 
Smith,  Mathew  W.,  18;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  17;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Veteran. 
Snyder,  Charles  J.,  19;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  17;  trans. 

"  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Snyder,  Philip,  23;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Geneva,  in  Co.  A;  Jan.  4;  trans. 

to  L,  no  date;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Soule,  Francis  E.  H.,  22;  Jan.  18,  '64,  Schenectady;  Feb.  26; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Souls,  Hobart  W.,  16;  Nov.  3,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  12;  Musician, 

no  date;  dis.  May  18.  '65. 
Sova,  Amada,  23;  Dec.  2,  '63,  Oswego;  Dec.  2;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Spaulding,  Charles  J.,  18;  Oct.  29,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  2;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Springer,  Elisha,  26;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Niles;  Jan.  4;  wd.  Oct.  19,  '64, 

Cedar  Creek;  dis.  July  8,  '65. 

Squires,  David  R.  B.,  45;  Jan.  9,  '64,  Onondaga;  Jan.  9;  no  M.  O. 
Stacey,  Alfred  E.,  18;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Elbridge;  1  year;  M.  O.,  July 

6^  '65. 
Stacey,  Anthony,  26;  Nov.  2,  '63,  Skaneateles;  Nov.  2;  dis.  Corp., 

July  24,  '64.    Vet.  Co.  G,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Stacev,  George,  42;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Elbridge;  Sept.  5,  1  year;  wd. 

Oct.  19?  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Stevens,  Edward  P.,  18;  Dec.  2,  '63,  Mexico;  Dec.  2;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Stewart,  Dennis  M.,  43;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  24;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Stewart,  George,  40;  Nov.  24,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  7;  wd.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  May  27,  '65. 
Stoyell,  John,  21;  Nov.  12,  '63,  Moravia;  Dec.  2;  Corp.,  Feb.  1, 

'64;  Sergt.,  Feb.  20,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.; 

M.  "O.  as  2d  Lieut. 
Sturdevant,  Marshall  E.,  18;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  16; 

k.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Tanner,  Cyrus,  29;  Nov.  17,  '63,  Auburn;  Nbv.  19;  dis.  May 

29,  '65. 
Toner,  John,  19;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Ovid;  Aug.  29,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 


COMPANY   M.  579 

Tunis,  William  J.  H.,  18;  Aug.  8,  '64,  Hornellsville;  Aug.  8,  1 

year;M.  O.,  July  6, '65. 
Walker,  Livingstone,  17;  Nov.  16,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  24;  d.  Mar. 

12,  '64,  Fort  Simmons. 
Walker,  William  H.,  17;  Nov.  16,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  24;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Walker,  William  V.,  19;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  2;  Corp., 

May  1,  '65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Watson,  Thomas,  43;  Nov.  12,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  16;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Veteran  61st  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Wayne,  Robert,  21;  Nov.  13,  '63,  Auburn;  Nov.  13;  no  M.  O. 
Webster,  Anson  D.,  21;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Fabius;  Dec.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Vet.  Co.  I,  61st  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Wickes,  Jared  W.,  20;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  7;  trans.  May 

1,  '65,  37th  Co.,  2d  Bat.,  V.  R.  C. 
Wilbur,  Simeon,  39;  Nov.  30,  '63,  Cicero;  Nov.  30;  d.  Jan.  3,  '64, 

Fort  Simmons. 
Wilcox,  Stephen  T.,  26;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Manlius;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Veteran. 
Willis,  John  G.,  37;  March  30,  '64,  Palermo;  March  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wilson,  George  H.,  25;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  4;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.     Vet.  Co.  I,  12th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Winkworth,  John,  21;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Geddes;  Jan.  2;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Woodburn,  Richard,  21;  Oct.  21,  '63,  Oswego;  Nov.  24;  deserted 

March  23,  '64.  Vet.  Co.  I,  24th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Young,  Andrew,  39;  Oct.  22,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Vet.  of  the  Regular  Army. 
Zimmerman,  George,  19;  Dec.  11,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  15;  d.  Jan. 

3,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 

COMPANY  M. 

Company  M  came  into  the  Ninth  as  the  eleventh  company, 
though  not  at  the  eleventh  hour.  It  is  very  likely  that  all  the 
men  in  the  regiment  knowing  to  the  circumstances  regretted 
the  misfortune  which  deprived  the  22d  Independent  Battery  of 
the  part  they  had  hoped  to  play  in  the  service,  but  neither  the 
men  in  the  company  nor  those  in  the  regiment  were  responsible 
for  the  situation,  and  all  speedily  became  the  best  of  friends. 
Since  the  homes  of  the  majority  of  those  in  Company  M  are 
considerably  further  west  than  Wayne  and  Cayuga,  the  "boys" 
do  not  get  to  the  reunions  as  their  comrades  wish,  and  regrets 
are  always  expressed  over  the  necessary  separation. 

There  are  names  on  the  roll  of  the  company  that  are  very 
dear  to  all  the  survivors,  and  every  one  who  wore  the  insignia 
of  corps  and  regiment  is  pleased  that  so  good  a  company  was 
sent  to  march  with  them  in  their  journeys  over  Virginia. 


580  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Still,  the  wound  inflicted  when  the  battery  notion  was  aban 
doned  was  deep  and  rankled  long.  The  following  lines  written 
by  one  of  the  company,  the  final  stanza  of  sixteen  recounting 
the  rise  and  progress  of  the  body,  present  fairly  well  the  senti 
ments  of  the  boys: 

"We  belong  to  this  regiment,  Ninth  bandbox  'tis  called, 

Our  letter  is  M,  and  by  that  we  are  told; 

Though  we  wear  not  the  figures,  Number  22, 

We'll  fight  just  as  well  for  the  red,  white  and  blue." 

CAPTAINS.  . 

John  D.  Numan,  42;  Sept.  4,  '62,  Lockport;  Sept.  4,  Captain; 

dis.  April  15,  '63. 
Anson  S.  Wood,  from  Company  D,  June  5,  '63;  rank  from  Apr. 

14;  wd.  at  Monocacy;  promoted  Major. 
William  I.  Parrish,  from  1st  Lieut.,  Nov.  30,  '64;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 

FIRST   LIEUTENANTS. 

Melancthon  N.  Brown,  37;  Sept.  4,  '62,  Lockport;  Sept.  4,  1st 

Lieut.;  dis.  April  16,  '63. 
William  DeW.  Pringle,  22;  Sept.  4,  '62,  Lockport;  Sept.  4,  1st 

Lieut.;  for  several  months  Adjutant;  dis.  Oct.  28,  '64. 
Robert  C.  Worthington,  from  2d  Lieut.,  June  6,  '63;  rank  from 

April  16;  dis.  Jan.  31,  '64. 

William  I.  Parrish,  from  2d  Lieut.,  April  4,  '64 ;  promoted  Capt. 
Guy  A.  Brown,  from  Sergt.  Major,  Nov.  28,  '64;  wd.  April  2,  '64, 

Petersburg;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  M.  O.  as 

Captain. 
Robert  Finley,  from  2d  Lieut.,  March  1,  '65;  rank  from  Feb.  3; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

SECOND   LIEUTENANTS. 

Robert  C.  Worthington,  23;  Sept.  4,  '62,  Lockport;  Sept.  4,  2d 

Lieut.;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
William  I.  Parrish,  from  1st  Sergt.,  June  15,  '63;  commissioned 

May  21 ;  promoted  1st  Lieut. 
Asahel  M.  Abbey,  from  1st  Sergt.,  April  17,  '63;  promoted  1st 

Lieut.,  Co.  C. 
John  Oldswager,  from  Corp.,  Oct.  16,  '64;  rank  from  Aug.  15; 

k.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Robert  Finley,  from  1st  Sergt.,  Dec.  15,  '64 ;  rank  from  Nov.  14 ; 

promoted  1st  Lieut. 

NON-COMMISSIONED  OFFICERS  AND  PRIVATES. 

Abbey,  Asahel  M.,  25;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28,  Sergt.; 
1st  Sergt.,  no  date;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 


COMPANY   M. 

1st  Lieut.  A.  M.  Abbey.          1st  Lieut.  Guy  A.  Brown. 

Capt.  Wm.  I.  Parrish. 
Sergt.  P.  N.  Parish.  2d  Lieut.  J.  J.  Peard. 


COMPANY    M.  581 

Albert,  Christian,  21;  Aug.  25,  '64,  Home;  Aug.  25;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  also  borne  as  Albert  Christian. 
A  very,  Benjamin  L.,  33;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Moravia;  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Avery,  George,  28;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Barhite,  Anthony,  33;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Moravia;  Sept.  1, 1  year;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek;  prisoner  Dec.  31,  '64;  dis.  June  19,  '65. 
Barnard,  Thomas  C.,  18;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  d. 

July  11,  '63,  Fort  Simmons. 
Barnhart,  John  C.,  35;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Scipio;  Dec.  31;  k.  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy. 
Bartlett,  John  W.,  23;  Aug.  13,  '63,  Bethany;  Oct.  28,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  April  27,  '64;  dis.  March  25,  '65. 
Bartlett,  Luther  M.,  22;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Bethany;  Jan.  1;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bates,  George  W.,  30;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Camillus;  Sept.  3,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Beitz,  Charles  L.,  24;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Moravia;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Benton,  Edwin  J.,  18;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  wd.  April 

2,  '65,  Petersburg;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Beyer,  Charles,  27;  Aug.  15,  '64,  Norwich;  Aug.  15;  dis.  June 

10,  '65. 
Birdsell,  Amos  M.,  29;  Aug.  26,  '64,  Moravia;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

k.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Bogardus,  John,  34;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  1, 1  year;  k.  Oct. 

19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Bower,  John,  24;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  Corp.,  1st 

Sergt.,  no  dates;  wd.  Cedar  Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d 

N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bowman,  George  W.,  18;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  29;  wd.  Cedar 

Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Bowman,  Jacob,  36;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  28;  dis.  Oct.  7,  '64, 

hospital. 
Boyd,  Henry  C.,  18;  Feb.  3,  '64,  2d  N.  Y.  Dist;  Feb.  3;  deserted 

Feb.  14,  '64. 
Brower,  Aldice  W.,  19;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Sodus;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Brown,  Cyrus  W.,  18;  Aug.  28,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  promoted 

Aug.  1,  '63,  to  commission  in  TJ.  S.  C.  T. 
Brown,  Guy  A.,  18;  Aug.  22,  '62,  Batavia;  Aug.  28,  Corp.;  Sergt., 

June  4,  '63;  trans,  field  and  staff,  Sergt.  Major;  later  pro 
moted  1st  Lieut. 
Brown,  Seymour  S.,  23;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  Corp., 

April  27,  '64;  dis.  July  25,  '65. 
Burr,  Frederick,  29;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  d.  July  9, 

'64,  hospital. 
Burnside,  Sherman,  43;  Sept.  30,  '64,  Rochester;  Sept.  30,  1 

year;  M.  O.?  July  6,  '65. 


582  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Burt,  Nelson  T.,  31;  Dec.  22,  '63,  29th  N.  Y.  Dist;  Dec.  22;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Butler,  Frederick,  42;  Sept.  22,  '64,  Rochester;  Sept.  22,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Carmel,  John,  29;  Sept.  4,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  Corp.,  Oct.  19, 

'64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Carney,  James,  18;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  Corp.,  Dec. 

21,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Carney,  John,  19;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  wd.  Cedar 

Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Carney,  Michael,  19;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  dis.  June 

23,  '65. 
Carter,  Zina  W.,  20;  Sept.  2,  '62,  Darien;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Case,  James  W.,  22;  Aug.  28,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  also  borne  as  Casey. 
Chace,  George  P.,  19;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Champlin,  Rowland    J.,  18;    Aug.  13,  '62,  Bethany;    Oct.  28; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Chappie,  William  H.,  18;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  dis. 

Jan.  21,  '64. 
Clark,  Joseph,  19;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Montezuma;  Sept.  2,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Cleveland,  Charles  J.,  21;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  Sergt, 

April  27,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Clute,  James  W.,  19;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  10,  1  year;  dis. 

March  19,  '65. 
Connelly,  Henry,  19;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. ;  also  borne  as  Conley. 
Connor,  John,  24;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  Sergt.,  Jan. 

22,  '63;  trans.  April  9,  '64,  to  Signal  Corps. 

Cook,  Orlin,  36;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Bethany;  Dec.  27;  dis.  Oct.  19,  '64. 
Cook,  Thomas,  24;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  dis.  March 

28,  '63. 

Cox,  Benjamin,  30;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  dis.  June  6, 

'65. 

Cox,  John,  31;  Sept.  4,  '62,  Darien;  Oct.  28;  dis.  July  20,  '63. 
Crampton,  William  H.,  21;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Rochester;  Sept.  3,  1 

year;  missing  after  the  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek,  Oct.  19,  '64. 
Crittenden,  Josiah  T.,  35;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28,  Sergt; 

promoted  2d  Lieut.,  Co.  B. 
Crowley,  Dennis,  12;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Washington;  Jan.  4,  Musician; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. ;  the  youngest  recorded 

age  in  the  regiment. 
Cure,  Charles,  22;  Sept.  19,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  19,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Cure,  Edwin,  20;  Sept.  19,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  19,  1  year;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek;  prisoner  Dec.  31,  '64,  Petersburg;  M.  O.,  July 

6,  '65. 


COMPANY   M.  583 

Dabron,  William,  20;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Bethel;  Dec.  22;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Davenport,  Norman,  24;  Aug.  20,  '64,  Bolton;  Aug.  20,  1  year; 

wd.  Cedar  Creek;  dis.  Feb.  25,  '65. 
Dean,  Cassius  M.,  19;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Moravia;  Sept.  1;  dis.  May 

29,  '65. 
Delano,  Elbridge  C.,  44;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Sodus;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Demary,  Sylvester,  28;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek;  trans.  Feb.  24,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 
Derrick,  James,  42;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Bethany;  Dec.  22;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Had  served  in  Co.  D,  14th  N.  Y.  I. 
Dewolf,  James,  22;  Jan.  14,  '64,  Montezuma;  Jan.  14;  absent 

sick  after  Nov.  12,  '64. 
Dibble,  Dennis,  19;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Dodson,  Earl  A.,  20;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  dis.  Feb. 

25,  '65. 
Dodson,  George  W.,  29;  Sept.  6,  '62,  Darien;  Oct.  28,  Artificer; 

wd.  at  Monocacy;  dis.  April  10,  '65. 
Doolittle,  Edward  F.,  45;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Hanover;  Jan.  4;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Dowlan,  Nicholas,  33;  Sept.  30,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  30,  1  year; 

dis.  June  15,  '65. 

Eastwood,  Elias,  24;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  wd.  at  Mo 
nocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Eddy,  William  A.,  22;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  prisoner 

Nov.  18,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Eldred,  George  F.,  21;  Sept.  23,  '64,  Farmington;  Sept.  23,  1 

year;  dis.  May  31,  '65. 
Ellison,  Alonzo,  26;  Dec.  20,  '63,  Bethel;  Dec.  22;  wd.  Cedar 

Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Ensign,  Horace,  43;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Bethany;  Dec.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Faber,  William,  23;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Field,  John  E.,  24;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  dis.  March 

3,  '64. 
Finley,  Robert,  20;  Aug.  28,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  Sergt.,  Oct. 

12,  '63;  1st  Sergt.,  Oct.  16,  '64;  wd.  Cedar  Creek;  promoted 

2d  Lieut. 
Fitzgerald,  Michael,  19;  Aug.  27,  '64,  Poughkeepsie;  Aug.  27; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Forbes,  Orson  J.,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Foster,  Charles,  28;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

Jan.  16,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 
Foster,  Henry,  28;  Dec.  30,  '63,  29th  Cong.  Dist;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

Jan.  16,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 


584  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Foster,  William,  44;  Dec.  30,  '63,  29th  Cong.  Dist.;  Dec.  30; 

trans.  Jan.  16,  '65,  V.  R.  C. 
Frank,  John,  18;  Aug.  5,  '64,  Schenectady;  Aug.  5, 1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Fritsche,  Hermann,  24;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Fritts,  Harvey  W.,  39;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Spafford;  Sept.  8;  wd.  Cedar 

Creek ;  M.  O.,  July  6, '65. 
Gann,  George,  38;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  Corp.,  Dec. 

21,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Garratt,  Levi  T.,  36;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  dis.  Mar. 

27,  '64. 
Garratt,  William  L.,  23;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Lyons;  Jan.  2;  trans,  as 

Artificer  Dec.  15,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Gee,  Alva  A.,  19;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Darien;  Jan.  5;  Corp.,  no  date; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gee,  Samuel  D.,  23;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Darien;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Geynor,  Joseph,  33;  Sept.  14,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  14, 1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Gillett,  Elijah  P.,  21;  Sept.  30,  '64,  Rochester;  Sept.  30,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Glor,  Paul,  24;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Godfrey,  Arthur,  26;  Dec.  28,  '63,  29th  Cong.  Dist;  Dec.  28; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Gray,  Charles  H.,  18;  Dec.  26,  '63,  29th  Cong.  Dist.;  Dec.  26; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Greenfield,  Alonzo,  21;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Savannah;  Dec.  1;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Vet.  98th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Griffin,  Charles  R.,  19;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Griffis,  John  O.,  18;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Grigers,  Frederick,  37;  Oct.  7,  '64,  Kingston;  Oct.  7;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Haight,  Ira  E.,  18;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  dis.  March 

10,  '63. 
Hannah,  Robert,  22;  Sept.  7,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  7,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Hartwell,  James,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Forestburg;  Jan.  4;  k.  Oct.  19, 

'64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Hassett,  John,  Jr.,  19;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  dis.  June 

16,  '65. 
Hermann,  John,  32;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  Sergt, 

April  9,  '64;  dis.  July  3,  '65. 
Herrington,  John,  23;  Sept.  7,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  7, 1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Hilsinger,  Chester,  24;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Marathon;  dis.  June  21,  '65, 

Washington. 


COMPANY    M.  585 

Holenbeck,  Abram,  30;  Sept.  19,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  19,  1  year; 

wd.  Nov.  5,  '64;  dis.  June  19,  '65. 
Hollenbeck,  Arthur,  18;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  k.  Dec. 

31,  '64,  Petersburg. 
Hollenbeck,  Edward  J.,  18;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

April  16,  '65,  V.  K.  C. 
Huff,  Gershom  R,,  20;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Venice;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Humphrey,  Amos,  25;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  "27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Humphrey,  Amos  B.,  24;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Darien;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Humphrey,  Marcus  E.,  21;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Darien;  Jan.  5;  d.  Aug. 

14,  '64,  hospital. 
Hutchins,  Miles  H.,  19;  Feb.  9,  '64,  Cortland;  Feb.  14;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Jewell,  Ezra,  39;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Camillus;  Sept.  3,  1  year;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek;  deserted  March  18,  '65;  a  false  jewel. 
Johnson,  Henry,  18;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  trans.  Jan. 

18,  '64,  Signal  Corps. 
Jones,  David,  28;  Jan.  18,  '64,  Darien;  Jan.  18;  prisoner  July  9, 

'64,  Monocacy;  dis.  April  5,  '65. 
Jones,  Samuel  R.,  28;  Feb.  23,  '64,  Springfield;  Feb.  23;  dis. 

June  22,  '65.    Vet.  Co.  K,  3d  N.  Y.  A. 
Keaf,  David,  19;  Feb.  26,  '64,  Oswego;  Feb.  26;  d.  Oct.  7,  '64, 

Fort  Simmons. 
Keating,  Patrick,  19;  Sept.  6,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  prisoner 

Dec.  31,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Kelly,  Lawrence,  18;  Jan.  30,  '64,  6th  Cong.  Dist;  Jan.  20;  de 
serted  Feb.  5,  '64. 
King,  Lebbeus,  23;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  Corp.,  April, 

'63;  Sergt,  ^pril  27,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
King,  Stephen  R.,  24;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  missing 

after  Monocacy,  July  9,  '64. 
Kingdon,  John  L.,  27;  Aug.  25,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  Corp., 

Jan.  22,  '63;  trans.  Jan.  18,  '64,  Signal  Corps. 
Kinkner,  Joseph,  22;  Aug.  19,  '64,  Utica;  Aug.  19,  1  year;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Knapp,  Albert  H.,  23;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  Corp., 

June  1,  '64;  Sergt,  July  1,  '64;  prisoner  July  20,  '64;  dis. 

Sept.  19,  '65,  Rochester. 
Knox,  Alonzo  H.,  18;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Moravia;  Sept.  1;  wd.  Cedar 

Creek ;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Lampson,  James,  28;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  14,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Lamson,  William  H.,  30;  Dec.  16,  '63,  14th  Cong.  Dist.;  Dec.  16; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Veteran. 
Lansing,  Isaac,  36;  Sept.  12,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  12;  missing  after 

Cedar  Creek. 


586  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Lapp,  Henry,  25;  Sept.  6,  '62,  Darien;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lapp,  James  M.,  19;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  trans,  as 

Corp.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lapp,  John  M.,  29;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  dis.  Feb. 

16,  '63. 
Lathrop,  Samuel,  26;  Sept.  6,  '62,  Darien;  Oct.  28;  d.  a  prisoner 

Feb.  15,  '65,  Danville,  Va. 
Lee,  John,  19;  Feb.  3,  '64,  3d  Cong.  Dist;  Feb.  3;  deserted  Feb. 

14,  '64. 
Lewis,  Benjamin,  18;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  dis.  March 

3,  '64. 

Lewis,  Hiram,  44;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Sodus;  Jan.  4;  dis.  June  15,  '65. 
Livingston,  Abner  H.,  21;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Moravia;  Sept.  1, 1  year; 

dis.  June  24,  '65. 
Lock,  Edwin,  29;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lockwood,  Norman  A.,  24;  Dec.  20,  '63,  Ledyard;  Dec.  30;  dis. 

July  29,  '65,  Elmira.    Veteran. 
Luplow,  Carl,  29;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lybolt,  Alonzo,  23;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Forestburg;  Dec.  21;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lybolt,  Archibald,  21;  Dec.  20,  '63,  Darien;  Dec.  20;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Lybolt,  Lewis  A.,  20;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Forestburg;  Dec.  21;  dis.  May 

29,  '65,  hospital,  Washington. 
Lyons,  Elias,  23;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  Artificer,  no 

date;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McCray,  John,  29;  Sept.  10,  '64,  Sheldon;  Sept.  10,  1  year;  dis. 

June  16,  '65. 
McDonald,  John,  20;  Aug.  22,  '64,  Avon;  Aug.  22;  dis.  June 

18,  '65. 

Mclntosh,  Angus,  24;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  wd.  Sept. 

19,  '64;  Corp.,  no  date;  dis.  July  25,  '65. 

McManus,  Thomas,  21;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
McMillen,  Archibald,  23;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Manney,  Barney  W.,  20;  Dec.  31, '63,  Forestburg;  Dec.  31;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Manney,  James  H.,  24;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Forestburg;  Dec.  31;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Manney,  Thomas  J.,  18;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Forestburg;  Dec.  31;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Marcellus,  Alva;  31;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Camillus;  Sept.  3,  1  year;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  June  24,  '65, 
Marsh,  Joseph,  — ;  Sept.  2,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  Corp.,  Sept. 

16, '64;  dis.  July  25, '65. 


COMPANY    M.  587 

Mellon,  Morris,  35;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Gerry;  Dec.  29;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Mellon,  Proctor,  23;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Moravia;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  d. 

June  22,  '65,  hospital. 
Meredith,  Marion  F.,  22;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  Corp., 

June  12,  '63;  dis.  July  6,  '65. 
Millard,  John  B.,  24;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  k.  July  9,  '64, 

Monocacy. 
Miller,  David,  21;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Miller,  William,  22;  Dec.  28,  '63,  29th  Cong.  Dist.;  Dec.  28;  wd. 

at  Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65, 2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Minturn,  William,  25;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Moravia;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

prisoner  Dec.  31,  '64;  dis.  June  21,  '65. 
Moore,  Jacob,  25;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  d.  Oct.  22,  '64, 

from  wounds  received  at  Cedar  Creek. 
Moore,  William  F.,  19;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Darien;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Morgan,  Israel,  33;  Dec.  13,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  28;  dis.  June  16,  '65. 
Moses,  Francis  S.,  18;  Feb.  22,  '64,  Caneadea;  Feb.  22;  wd.  Cold 

Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Moses,  Lafayette,  19;  Feb.  22,  '64,  Caneadea;  Feb.  23;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Moulton,  Albert  H.,  18;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  Corp., 

March  28,  '63;  trans.  Jan.  10,  '64,  Signal  Corps. 
Moulton,  Edward    F.,  20;    Aug.  20,  '62,  Alexander;    Oct.  28; 

Sergt,  Oct.  16,  '63;  trans.  April  9,  '64,  Signal  Corps. 
Moulton,  William  M.,  25;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  dis. 

Jan.  26,  '64. 
Moxon,  Artemas.  29;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Bennington;  Dec.  30;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.    Vet.  Co.  D,  14th  N.  Y.  Vols. 
Munger,  Lucius  A.,  20;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  trans.  Jan. 

18,  '64,  Signal  Corps. 

Munt,  John,  32;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  dis.  June  6,  '65. 
Newland,  Kial,  42;  Dec.  21,  '63,  29th  Cong.  Dist.;  Dec.  21;  a 

veteran  railroad  man,  he  was  detailed  April  11,  '64,  and 

served  the  government  as  railroad  engineer;  dis.  May  21, 

'65. 
Nichols,  Moses,  24;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  Corp.,  Oct. 

19, ''64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Nulty,  Henry,  34;   Aug.  14,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28,  Corp.;  Sergt., 

April  5,  '63;  dis.  May  25,  '65. 
O'Donnell,  Michael,  24;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  18;  Corp., 

Oct.  16,  '63;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Oldswager,  John,  26;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28,  Corp.; 

1st  Sergt.,  June  10,  '63;  promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Paden,  Thomas  W.,  28;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  Sergt, 

no  date;  k.  Oct.  19,  '64,  Cedar  Creek. 
Parish,  Francis  N.,  28;  Aug.  5,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28,  Q.  M.  Sergt.; 

dis.  Jan.  21,  '64. 


588  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Parrish,  William  I.,  27;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28,  Sergt.; 

promoted  2d  Lieut. 
Patrick,  Corvdon  M.,  19;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Moravia;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Peard,  John  J.,  19;  Sept.  5,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  Sergt.,  June  7, 

'65;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A.;  M.  O.  2d  Lieut. 
Pearsall,  Levi,  20;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Moravia;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Peck,  George  W.,  29;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Moravia;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Pelton,  Stephen,  36;  Jan.  13,  '64,  Sterling;  Jan.  15;  no  M.  O. 
Peters,  Hugh  T.,  18;  Sept.  4,  '62,  Darien;  Oct.  28;  Sergt.,  no 

date;  dis.  April  19,  '64. 
Pitkins,  David,  31;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  2, 1  year;  prisoner 

Dec.  31,  '64,  Petersburg;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Plant,  Kobert,  43;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  dis.  June  6,  '65. 
Pollock,  John  P.,  18;  Sept.  13,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  13;  dis.  May 

31,  '65,  hospital. 
Pond,  Edson  H.,  25;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28,  Musician; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Porter,  James,  18;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Porter,  Nelson,  42;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Camillus;  Sept.  6,  1  year;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek;  d.  May  1,  '65,  hospital,  City  Point. 
Pulver,  Jacob,  27;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  29;  dis.  May  31,  '65. 
Putnam,  Norman  M.,  25;  Sept.  5,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Quick,  Oscar,  18;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Oswego;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June  27, 

'65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Kandolph,  William  H.,  22;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  wd. 

Cold  Harbor;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Rhinehart,  Cornelius,  43;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Forestburg;  Jan.  5;  trans. 

April  25,  '65,  116th  Co.,  2d  Bat.,  V.  K.  C. 
Rice,  Lyman,  42;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Darien;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June  27,  '65, 

2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Rich,  Alonzo,  19;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Rich,  Ambrose,  25;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  d.  Jan.  5,  '65, 

hospital. 
Rich,  Mortimer,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Richards,  Frederick,  36;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Richmond,  Sidney,  24;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  dis.  May 

23,  '65. 
Robertson,  George,  31;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Butler;  Dec.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Rosecrants,  Eli  F.,  21;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Springport;  Jan.  9;  prisoner 

July  9,  '64,  Monocacy;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 


COMPANY   M.  589 

Royce,  Day,  22;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Moravia;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  prisoner 

Dec.  31,  '64,  Petersburg;  M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Rumsey,  Nathan  E.,  18;  Sept.  6,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  wd.  June 

22,  '64;  deserted  Feb.  1,  '65. 
Ryan,  John,  23;  Feb.  3,  '64,  3d  Cong.  Dist;  Feb.  3;  wd.  Cedar 

Creek;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Schiller,  John  D.,  25;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  Sergt, 

Oct.  12,  '63;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Shadbolt,  Edwin,  26;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  Corp., 

July  1,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Shader,  Gilbert,  43;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  trans.  Jan. 

22,  '64,  22(t  Co.,  2d  Bat.,  V.  R.  C. 

Shafer,  Henry,  35;  Sept.  3,  '62,  Darien;  Oct.  28;  dis.  Mar.  21,  '63. 
Shaw,  Edsel,  21;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Shepard,  Charles,  — ;  Jan.  25,  '64,  Fort  Corcoran;  Jan.  25;  dis. 

Aug.  26,  '65,  Elmira.    Veteran. 
Sherman,  John  J.,  30;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Huron;  Jan.  4;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Sleeper,  Joseph  A.,  35;  Dec.  29,  '63,  29th  Cong.  Dist.;  Dec.  29; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Smead,  Charles  E.,  18;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Smith,  Edward  B.,  18;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Smith,  Wallace  M.,  18;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  dis.  June 

22,  '65. 
Spoor,  George  D.,  19;  Sept.  19,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  19,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Spring,  David  S.,  18;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  dis.  June 

9,  '65. 
Stephens,  John  D.,  27;  Sept.  30,  '64,  Rochester;  Sept.  30,  1  year; 

deserted  April  2,  '65. 
Stewart,  Alexander  C.,  24;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Springport;  Dec.  30; 

trans.  Oct.  24,  '64,  21st  Co.,  2d  Bat.,  V.  R.  C. 
Sturgess,  Horton,  23;  Jan.  3,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  5;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Tanger,  Frederick,  29;  Sept.  3,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Taylor,  Stephen,  20;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  Corp.,  Oct. 

12,  '63;  Sergt.,  Dec.  21,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y. 

H.A. 
Thompson,  Orville,  28;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  Corp., 

Sept.,  4,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Thompson,  Stephen,  44;  Sept.  6,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

Jan.  22,  '64,  V.  R.  C. 
Tripp,  Joseph,  38;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Venice;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek;  dis.  June  16,  '65. 
Van  Curan,  Charles,  18;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. ;  also  borne  as  Van  Buren. 


590  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Vandenburg,  Isaac,  31;  Sept.  13,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  13,  1  year; 

dis.  June  14,  '65. 

Vandenburg,  John,  19;  Feb.  3,  '64,  3d  Cong.  Dist;  Feb.  3;  de 
serted  Feb.  16,  '64. 
Van  Hoesen,  John  P.,  27;  Sept.  19,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  19, 1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 
Vickers,  Frederick,  41;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  M.  O., 

July  6,  '65. 
Vishion,  Henry  W.,  21;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wade,  Gilbert  0.,  18;  Sept.  3,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  Corp.,  June 

5, '64;  Sergt.,  Dec.  21,  '64;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Waite,  Daniel  E.,  25;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28,  Sergt.;  dis. 

Jan.  22,  '64. 
Walsh,  Thomas,  34;  Aug.  21,  Alexander;  Oct.  28,  Corp.;  Sergt., 

Feb.  22,  '63;  dis.  March  27,  '63. 
Ward,  Edwin,  40;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  Q.  M.  Sergt., 

June  12,  '63;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Warren,  John  J.,  28;  Sept.  6,  '62,  Darien;  Oct.  28;  Corp.,  April 

12,  '64;  dis.  July  25,  '65. 
Webster,  Peter,  37;  Jan.  2,  '64,  14th  Cong.  Dist.;  Jan.  2;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Welsh,  William,  44;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  dis.  Apr. 

20,  '64. 
Wickers,  Jonas  C.,  24;  Sept.  6,  '62,  Darien;  Oct.  28;  trans.  June 

27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wilson,  David,  23;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Parma;  Dec.  29;  prisoner  July 

9,  '64,  Monocacy;  d.  Oct.  26,  '64,  Danville,  Va. 
Wilson,  Samuel  R.,  32;  Dec.  5,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29;  dis.  May 

15,  '65. 
Wing,  Eugene  B.,  23;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28,  Corp.; 

Sergt.,  March  28,  '63;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wing,  Stephen  P.,  23;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wolfe,  Frederick,  29;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Livingston;  Dec.  29;  wd. 

Cedar  Creek;  d.  Nov.  24,  '64,  hospital. 
Worthington,  John,  35;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  Sergt., 

June  12/63;  trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Wright,  William  E.,  20;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28,  Sergt.; 

trans.  June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
Zweitsche, Christian,  29;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  trans. 

June  27,  '65,  2d  N.  Y.  H.  A. 

Since  Company  M,  as  the  22d  Independent  Battery,  came 
into  the  Ninth  Feb.  5, 1863,  it  is  obvious  that  all  members  of  the 
battery  who  in  any  way  severed  their  connection  with  the  same 
before  the  above  date  had  no  part  with  our  regiment  and  should 
not  be  included  in  our  summaries,  but  for  the  sake  of  associa 
tions  their  names  and  disposition  are  here  given. 


COMPANY   M.  591 

Edwin  F.  Clark,  mustered  as  2d  Lieut,  Sept.  4,  '62,  and  by 
special  order  No.  156,  adjutant  general's  office,  War  De 
partment,  April  4,  '63,  his  commission  was  revoked  and  he 
was  M.  O.  from  date  of  M.  L,  having  never  reported  for 
duty. 

Bailey,  Freeman,  24;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  trans.  Oct.  23,  '62, 
25th  Ind.  Bat. 

Bassett,  William  P.,  44;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Bergen;  trans.  Oct.  23,  '62, 
25th  Ind.  Bat. 

Blood,  Delos,  24;  Aug.  14,  '62,  Batavia;  deserted  Oct.  3,  '62; 
that  blood,  though  saved,  was  bad. 

Bradley,  Chris.  W.,  20;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  dis.  Jan. 
17,  '63,  Washington. 

Brown,  Hezekiah,  27;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Bergen;  deserted  Oct.  24,  '62. 

Brown,  Miles  T.,  26;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  deserted 
Dec.  28,  '62. 

Bruette,  Isaac,  32;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  trans.  Oct.  23,  '62, 
25th  Ind.  Bat. 

Canfield,  Jerome,  34;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  dis.  Dec. 
23,  '62. 

Cole,  William  B.,  22;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  deserted 
Jan.  1,  '63;  this  Cole  made  a  black  mark. 

Colt,  Alva  N.,  19;  Aug.  15,  '62,  Bethany;  deserted  Oct.  5,  '62; 
he  needed  breaking. 

Conant,  Orson  H.,  23;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  d.  Jan. 

13,  '63,  Fort  Reno. 

Covey,  Diocletian,  33;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  deserted 

Jan.  14,  '63. 

Dunn,  James,  18;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Bergen;  dis.  Oct.  22,  '62. 
Edwards,  George,  40;  Aug.  26,  '62,  Bergen;  trans.  25th  Ind.  Bat. 
Emery,  James,  18;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Batavia;  trans.  Oct.  23,  '62,  25th 

Ind.  Bat. 
Fairfield,  Charles,  44;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  trans.  Oct.  23, 

'62,  25th  Ind.  Bat. 

Ford,  Ansel,  21;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  d.  Dec.  8,  '62. 
Fowler,  Robert,  28;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  dis.  Dec. 

14,  '62. 

Gowing,  Cyrus  A.,  20;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  d.  Nov. 

20,  '62. 
Hatch.  James  G.,  20;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  dis.  Dec. 

25,  '62. 
Hill,  David,  23;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Bergen;  deserted  Sept.  23,  '62;  not 

the  subsequent  governor,  he  deserts  nothing. 
Kellner,  John,  25;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  d.  Jan.  14,  '63. 
Kidder,  James,  23;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  dis.  Jan. 

7,  '63. 
Knapp,  Silas,  19;  Aug.  12,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28;  d.  Nov.  26,  '62, 

Camp  Barry. 
Kraetzer,  Henry  L..  21;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  d.  Dec. 

5,  '62,  Camp  Barry. 


592  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Lawrence,  George  B.,  20;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  de 
serted  Oct.  15,  -62. 
Livingston,  Henry,  26;  Aug.  31,  '63,  Bergen;  deserted  Sept.  24, 

'62. 

Loomis,  Irwin  W.,  22;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  de 
serted  Jan.  1,  '63. 
McDowell,  Alexander  C.,  29;  Aug.  9,  '62,  Bergen;  deserted  Sept. 

20,  '62. 
Maltby,  William  H.,  23;  Aug.  30,  '63,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  d.  Nov. 

24,  '62. 

Martin,  Elias,  23;  Aug.  31,  '62,  Batavia;  trans.  25th  Ind.  Bat. 
Kodgers,  George,  18;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  dis.  Jan. 

31,  '63. 
Smith,  Charles  A.,  23;  Aug.  30,  '62,  Oakfield;  Oct.  28;  d.  Nov. 

22,  '62. 
Tisdale,  Homer  L.,  21;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  dis. 

Jan.  9,  '63. 
Waite,  James  M.,  18;  Aug.  29,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28,  1st  Sergt; 

promoted,  Dec.  28,  '62,  2d  Lieut.,  5th  N.  Y.  H.  A. 
West,  Warren,  20;  Aug.  19,  '62,  Batavia;  Oct.  28;  dis.  Jan. 

31,  '63. 
Williams,  John  W.,  18;  Aug.  2,  '62,  Bergen;  Oct.  28;  d.  Dec. 

5,  '62. 
Wood,  Henry,  22;  Aug.  13,  '62,  Bethany;  Oct.  28,  Artificer;  d. 

Dec.  27,  "'62. 
Wright,  Walter  L,  24;  Aug.  21,  '62,  Alexander;  Oct.  28;  d.  Nov. 

30,  '62. 

UNASSIGNED  RECRUITS. 

The  following  names  are  borne  on  the  government  rolls  as 
unassigned  to  companies.  Except  in  certain  instances  there  is 
no  record  of  muster-out.  Consequently  the  data  give  only  names, 
ages  and  muster-in  facts.  Very  likely  some  names  are  on  the 
company  rolls  in  some  varying  form,  thus  changed  through  the 
carelessness  of  clerks. 

The  adjutant  general's  report,  1868,  has  the  name  of  2d  Lieu 
tenant  Vincent  "Agnet,"  commissioned  Feb.  11,  '63,  with  rank 
from  Dec.  30,  1862,  not  mustered.  Considerable  research  de 
velops  the  facts  that  his  name  was  Vincent  Eugene  Agnel,  a 
son  of  Hyacinth  K.  Agnel,  from  1840  till  long  after  the  war 
professor  of  French  in  West  Point.  Vincent  E.  was  born  in 
West  Farms,  Westchester  county,  March  22, 1840 ;  was  educated 
at  the  public  schools  of  West  Point,  and  by  private  tutors.  He 
went  to  New  Orleans  in  the  winter  of  1862  as  a  private  secretary 
to  General  S.  B.  Holabird,  and  there  died  of  typhoid  fever,  Mar. 
28,  '63.  His  body  lies  in  West  Point  cemetery. 

The  adjutant  general's  report  for  1897  has  the  name  of  A.  P. 
Crafts,  commissioned  assistant  surgeon,  Sept.  25,  '62,  not  mus 
tered. 


TJNASSIGNED    RECRUITS.  593 

Also  the  same  report  bears  the  name  of  J.  N.  Knapp,  mus 
tered  in  as  adjutant  in  Albany,  Aug.  20, 1862,  but  was  not  com 
missioned.  No  further  record. 

The  same  report  has  Edward  Malone,  commissioned  assistant 
surgeon  Feb.  18,  '65,  not  mustered. 
Allen,  Joshua,  38;  March  10,  '64,  Troy;  March  10. 
Allen,  Milton  C.,  18;  Aug.  23,  '64,  Genoa;  Aug.  23,  1  year. 
Anderson,  John,  20;  March  3,  '64,  Brooklyn;  March  3. 
Baldwin,  George,  23;  May  18,  '64,  Galen;  May  18. 
Benedict,  Joseph,  43;  Sept.  20,  '63,  Avon;  Sept.  20. 
Berdelle,  George,  22;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Mies;  Jan.  2,  '64. 
Berggren,  Aden,  49;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  19. 
Bowman,  John  B.,  21;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  4. 
Bowker,  Jackson  M.,  18;  Feb.  9,  '64,  Lansing;  Feb.  9. 
Boyd,  William,  25;  Feb.  27,  '64,  Syracuse;  Feb.  29. 
Boyle,  John,  25;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  1,  1  year. 
Bradburn,  Peter,  44;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Camillus;  Sept.  6. 
Bradley,  James,  23;  Dec.  15,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  15. 
Brennan,  John,  22;  Dec.  17,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  17. 
Brenne,  John,  25;  Sept.  5,  '64,  Aurelius;  Sept.  5,  1  year. 
Bridenbacker,  Jacob,  39;  Jan.  6,  '64,  Troy;  Jan.  8. 
Brooks,  James  P.,  23;  April  9,  '64,  New  York;  April  9. 
Brown,  Charles,  19;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Auburn;  Aug.  29,  1  year. 
Brown,  James  S.,  24;  Feb.  27,  '64,  Onondaga;  Feb.  29. 
Brown,  John,  30;  Dec.  28,  '64,  Junius;  Dec.  29. 
Brown,  John,  29;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  15. 
Brown,  Thomas,  20;  April  15,  '64,  Westmoreland;  April  15. 
Bruce,  John,  19;  Jan.  7,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  7. 
Bukley,  John,  40;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Conquest;  Aug.  30,  1  year. 
Burke,  William,  22;  March  11,  '64,  New  York;  March  11. 
Burletes,  Henry,  32;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Fayette;  Dec.  29. 
Butler,  James,  23;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Sennett;  Sept.  3,  1  year. 
Butts,  Alexander,  Jr.,  30;  Jan.  9,  '64,  Smyrna;  Jan.  9. 
Calipe,  William,  34;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Albany;  1  year;  M.  O.,  May 

7,  '65. 

Campbell,  Henry,  35;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Skaneateles;  1  year;  Sept.  1. 
Cannon,  William  W.,  25;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  21,  1  year. 
Carney,  John,  28;  Sept.  7,  '64,  Brooklyn;  Sept.  7. 
Carroll,  Martin,  23;  Dec.  15,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  15. 
Carter,  John  S.,  21;  Dec.  14,  '62,  Albany;  Dec.  14. 
Case,  Charles,  27;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Galen;  Jan.  2,  '64. 
Cassidy,  William,  19;  March  11,  '63,  Tully;  March  11. 
Chadwick,  James,  36;  Dec.  12,  '63,  Pembroke;  Dec.  12. 
Clark,  Charles  S.,  18;  Jan.  9,  '64,  Brooklyn;  Jan.  9. 
Clark,  George  A.,  18;  Dec.  14,  '64,  Albany;  Dec.  14. 
Clark,  James,  21;  Dec.  11,  '64,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  14. 
Clark,  James  S.,  18;  Aug.  20,  '64,  Dryden;  Aug.  20,  1  year. 
Clark,  Thomas,  25;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Auburn;  Sept.  6,  1  year. 
Clay,  Frank  H.,  20;  Sept.  13,  '64,  Avon;  Sept.  13,  1  year. 
38 


594  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Coleman,  James,  38;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Macedon;  Dec.  29;  Vet.  Go.  B, 

160th  N.  Y. 

Comstock,  Alexander,  25;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  21. 
Comstock,  Levi  W.,  18;  Jan.  18,  '64,  Dewitt;  Jan.  25. 
Conger,  Hoyt,  21;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Waterloo;  Dec.  21. 
Conlon,  John,  28;  April  7,  '64,  Jamaica;  April  7. 
Connors,  John,  19;  April  15,  '64,  Utica;  April  15. 
Cook,  Daniel,  21;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  5. 
Cook,  Edward,  44;  Jan.  14,  '64,  Mexico;  Jan.  14. 
Cooley,  Michael,  44;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  4. 
Cornwell,  John  T.,  38;  Jan.  9,  '64,  Macedon;  Jan.  12. 
Coupe,  William  W.,  44;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  9. 
Coyle,  John,  30;  Sept.  23,  '64,  Tarrytown;  Sept.  23,  1  year. 
Cranson,  Dexter,  44;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Venice;  Dec.  22. 
Crawford,  Clarence,  18;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  14. 
Crawford,  James  D.,  33;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Bolivar;  Jan.  4. 
Cromwell,  William  A.,  24;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Macedon;  Dec.  16. 
Cross,  Albert  B.,  29;  Sept.  8,  '64,  Sodus;  Sept.  8. 
Crothey,  Kobert,  25;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Scipio;  Sept.  3. 
Cune,  Patrick  M.,  23;  April  7,  '64,  Batavia;  April  7. 
Cutler,  John,  21;  March  24,  '63,  Brooklyn;  March  24. 
Dailey,  Ezekiel  L.,  44;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  29. 
Daly,  John,  21;  Sept.  15,  '63,  Sodus;  Sept.  15. 
Davidson,  John,  35;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  3;  M.  O.,  May 

7,  '65. 

Deabson,  William,  20;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Bethel;  Dec.  22. 
Deming,  Francis  B.,  18;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Rose;  Jan.  2,  '64. 
Derby,  Milton,  33;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  5, 1  year.  Had  been 

in  44th  and  105th  N.  Y. 

Dillen,  John,  22;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  21. 
Dixon,  James,  22;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Nov.  23.    Vet.  Co.  K, 

16th  Va.  Vols. 

Doodey,  John,  19;  Nov.  24,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Nov.  24. 
Doamb,  George,  22;  Oct.  14.  '64,  New  York;  Oct.  14. 
Doyle,  Arthur,  25;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Wolcott;  Dec.  30. 
Doyle,  John,  18;  March  15.  '64,  Richlaud;  March  15. 
Downey,  Robert,  44;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Oswego;  Aug.  30;  M.  O.,  July 

27,  '65. 

Dunmore,  James,  24;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  4. 
Early,  William,  24;  Dec.  12,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  14. 
Edick,  William  P.,  32;  Jan.  21,  '64,  Geddes;  Jan.  21. 
Edwards,  William,  21;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  14. 
Elliott,  Printis,  53;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Harford;  Jan.  1. 
Emerick,  Joshua,  38;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Auburn;  Jan.  2,  '64. 
Evans,  Daniel,  23;  Dec.  9,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  9. 
Evers,  James,  23;  Dec.  12,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  14. 
Fellows,  Thomas,  24;  Feb.  29,  '64,  Washington;  Feb.  29. 
Field,  Horace,  18;  Jan.  29,  '64,  Sodus;  Jan.  29. 
Flynn,  David,  22;  Dec.  7,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  7. 


TJNASSIGNBD    RECRUITS.  596 

Foster,  George  T.,  24;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Galen;  Sept.  3,  1  year. 

Foster,  James  P.,  44;  Dec.  19,  '63,  Butler;  Dec.  28. 

Foster,  Paul,  23;  Feb.  24,  '64,  Windbam;  Feb.  24. 

Freer,  Isaac,  21;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Onondaga;  Jan.  5. 

French,  Peter,  31;  Jan.  2,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  5. 

Frysat,  Joseph,  31;  Jan.  26,  '64,  Wolcott;  Jan.  26. 

Gaffey,  James,  32;  Dec.  18,  '63,  Auburn;  Dec.  31. 

Gardner,  Adolphus,  18;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Palmyra;  Jan.  2. 

Gay,  Lawrence,  24;  Jan.  1,  '63,  Palmyra;  Jan.  2. 

Genthner,  Charles,  18;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Lyons;  Jan.  4. 

George,  James,  32;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  M.  O., 

May  7,  '65. 
Gilhuley,  James,  44;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Conquest;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 

M.  O.,  July  6,  '65. 

Glenn,  Frank,  23;  Dec.  7,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  7. 
Goodnow,  Washington,  27;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Auburn;  Aug.  30. 
Goodrich,  Ephraim,  44;  Dec.  23,  '63,  Butler;  Dec.  29. 
Gotham,  Brainard  C.,  19;  Jan.  16,  '64,  Russia;  Jan.  18. 
Gray,  Walter  S.,  21;  Nov.  24,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Nov.  24. 
Hall,  Isaac,  18;  Jan.  7,  '64,  Salina;  Jan.  7. 
Hamilton,  James,  35;  Aug.  1,  '64,  Lyons;  Aug.  1. 
Haskell,  Daniel,  42;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Aurelius;  Dec.  28. 
Hawkins,  Elizner,  29;  Aug.  28,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  29. 
Hay  wood,  Alfred,  24;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Sodus;  Dec.  29. 
Heady,  Lewis,  19;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Sempronius;  Dec.  29. 
Henry,  John,  20;  Jan.  21,  '64,  Elbridge;  Jan.  21. 
Herrington,  James  S.,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  4. 
Hitchcock,  George  W.,  30;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Macedon;  Dec.  28. 
Holcomb,  Charles  R.,  20;  Jan.  22,  '64,  Victory;  Jan.  22. 
Holden,  James,  23;  April  7,  '64,  Jamaica;  April  7. 
Horn,  Charles  V.,  21;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Rose;  Dec.  15. 
Houser,  Charles  L.,  19;  Sept.  3,  '63,  Dryden;  Sept.  3. 
Howard,  John,  44;  Jan.  6,  '63,  Clay;  Jan.  6;  had  served  in  Co.  I, 

149th  N.  Y.  Vols. 

Hoye,  Francis,  26;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Albany;  Sept.  7. 
Hyde,  John,  23;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Auburn;  Sept.  6,  1  year. 
Inorgan,  David,  18;  Dec.  9,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  9. 
Ireland,  William  W.,  19;  Jan.  8,  '64,  Lyons;  Feb.  11. 
Jennings,  Charles  H.,  31;  Sept.  24,  '63,  Lyons;  Feb.  24,  '64. 
Johnson,  Hogan,  28;  Jan.  15,  '64,  New  York;  Jan.  15. 
Johnston,  John,  32;  Dec.  16,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29. 
Jones,  James,  23;  March  11,  '64,  New  York;  March  11. 
Jones,  Samuel  I.,  42;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  26. 
Kane,  John,  24;  March  11,  '64,  New  York;  March  11. 
Kinney,  Joseph,  22;  Dec.  29,  '63,  New  Haven;  Dec.  29. 
Kramer,  George,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Brooklyn;  Jan.  4. 
Larkins,  John,  — ;  March  15,  '64,  Richland;  March  15. 
Lavey,  James,  20;  March  3,  '64,  Brooklyn;  March  3. 
Leonard,  Charles  R.,  29;  Jan.  28,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  28. 


596  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Little,  Isaac,  44;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Jan.  5;  had  served  in 

Co.  F,  160th  N.  Y.  Vols. 

Loaf  man,  James,  19;  March  9,  '64,  Troy;  March  9. 
Logan,  John,  21 ;  Dec.  4,  '63,  Brooklyn ;  Dec.  4. 
Lusk,  William,  19;  Feb.  23,  '64,  Troy;  Feb.  23. 
Lyman,  Charles,  23;  Nov.  24,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Nov.  24. 
Lyinan,  Joseph,  19;  Nov.  24,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Nov.  24. 
Lyons,  John,  22;  Nov.  24,  '64,  Brooklyn;  Nov.  24. 
McCarty,  Patrick,  41;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  28. 
McVicar,  John  D.,  24;  Jan.  1,  '64,  Lyons;  Jan.  4. 
Madder,  John,  25;  Dec.  15,  '63,  Aurelius;  Dec.  30. 
Mahany,  Dennis,  19;  Feb.  3,  '64,  Brooklyn;  Feb.  3. 
Mann,  Asa  D.,  43;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Venice;  Jan.  2,  '64. 
Manning,  Albert,  30;  Sept.  23,  '64,  Tarrytown;  Sept.  23,  1  year. 
Marshall,  Henry  S.,  23;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Geneva;  Jan.  4. 
Martin,  Henry,  21;  March  15,  '64,  Richland;  March  15. 
Martin,  Thomas,  20;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Auburn;  Sept.  2,  1  year. 
Mead,  William  H.,  44;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Butler;  Dec.  28. 
Merritt,  Edmund  P.,  43;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Cortland;  Jan.  13. 
Milem,  William,  41;  Nov.  23,  '63,  Galen;  Nov.  23. 
Miller,  Cornelius,  21;  Dec.  14,  '63,  Rose;  Dec.  29. 
Miller,  John  B.,  24;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29. 
Miller,  Proctor,  23;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Moravia;  Sept.  1,  1  year. 
Miller,  William  A.,  40;  Feb.  12,  '64,  Syracuse;  Feb.  12. 
Miner,  John,  31 ;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Auburn ;  Sept.  6,  1  year. 
Moore,  George,  23;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Auburn;  Sept.  6,  1  year. 
Moore,  Horatio  E.,  47;  Feb.  8,  '64,  Virgil;  Feb.  9. 
Morgan,  Ebenezer  D.,  20;  Aug.  30,  '64,  Albany;  M.  O.,  May  7, '65. 
Morgan,  Henry  J.,  21;  Dec.  9,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  9. 
Mulligan,  Dennis,  21;  March  11,  '64,  New  York;  March  11. 
Murney,  Cornelius,  40;  Dec.  23,  Junius;  Jan.  5,  '64. 
Murphey,  Michael,  22;  Dec.  15,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  15. 
Murray,  Bernard,  21;  March  11,  '64,  New  York;  March  11. 
Murray,  Erastus,  45;  Aug.  9,  '64,  Rose;  Aug.  9,  1  year. 
Myers,  William  A.,  22;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Auburn;  Sept.  2,  1  year. 
Nichols,  John  B.,  25;  Aug.  29,  '64,  Oxford;  Aug.  29,  1  year. 
North,  Jesse,  42;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Huron;  Sept.  1,  1  year;  M.  O., 

Dec.  — ,  '64. 

Norton,  Horace,  41;  Dec.  30,  '63,  Schroeppel;  Dec.  30. 
Norton,  Michael,  21;  Dec.  12,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  12. 
Nots,  Thomas,  22;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Auburn;  Sept.  6,  1  year. 
O'Keefe,  Daniel,  19;  Feb.  20,  '64,  Oswego;  Feb.  20. 
Overocker,  George  W.,  18;  Aug.  22,  '64,  Butler;  Aug.  22, 1  year. 
Parsons,  David,  23;  Aug.  31,  '64,  Ira;  Aug.  31,  1  year. 
Parsons,  Stephen,  23;  Aug.  9,  '64,  Savannah;  Aug.  9. 
Perry,  Leonard  J.,  20;  March  1,  '64,  Kingston;  March  1. 
Pettitt,  Joseph,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Brooklyn;  Jan.  4. 
Potter,  Byron,  28;  Jan.  13,  '64,  Macedon;  Jan.  15;  M.  O.,  July 

8,  '64. 


UNASSIGNED    RECRUITS.  597 

Potter,  Charles,  25;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Savannah;  Jan.  4. 

Potter,  George  W.,  22;  Nov.  21,  '63,  Oswego;  Nov.  21. 

Prentiss,  James  B.,  19;  Dec.  24,  '63,  Marion;  Dec.  24. 

Quinn,  James,  45;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Macedon;  Dec.  28. 

Radway,  Albert  Rv  25;  Sept.  15,  '64,  Rochester;  1  year;  M.  O., 

May  9,  '65. 

Rains,  John,  21;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Auburn;  Sept.  6,  1  year. 
Rankins,  William,  20;  Feb.  27,  '64,  Mexico;  Feb.  27. 
Reardon,  William,  21;  March  3,  '64,  Brooklyn;  March  3. 
Reese,  Philip,  18;  Dec.  9,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  9. 
Remington,  Orlando,  44;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Brutus;  Dec.  31. 
Reyne,  James,  30;  Sept.  28,  '64,  Cohocton;  Sept.  24. 
Riley,  Patrick,  20;  Nov.  25,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Nov.  25. 
Riley,  Philip,  23;  Oct.  25,  '64,  Albany;  Oct.  25, 1  year. 
Ringley,  Seth  H.,  20;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Onondaga;  Dec.  29. 
Ritchey,  James,  36;  Jan.  27,  '64,  Auburn;  Jan.  27. 
Rogers,  Thomas,  19;  March  11,  '64,  Clay;  March  11. 
Rook,  Martin,  20;  Feb.  3,  '64,  Brooklyn;  Feb.  3. 
Rorke,  John,  18;  Feb.  3,  '64,  Brooklyn;  Feb.  3. 
Rosser,  Garrett  S.,  20;  Nov.  30,  '63,  Syracuse;  Nov.  30. 
Russell,  Henry,  44;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Mentz;  Dec.  21. 
Ryan,  Morris,  32;  Jan.  6,  '64,  Skaneateles;  Jan.  6. 
Ryan,  Thomas,  20;  Sept.  15,  '63,  Seneca  Falls;  Sept.  15. 
Sanders,  William,  20;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Albany;  Dec.  22. 
Sayers,  Henry,  26;  March  1,  '64,  Troy;  March  1. 
Scanlon,  Patrick,  30;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Junius;  Dec.  28. 
Schmidt,  Emil,  25;  Nov.  9,  '64,  New  York;  Nov.  9. 
Scholz,  John,  18;  Dec.  26,  '63,  Geddes;  Dec.  26. 
Schoonmaker,  Alonzo,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Conquest;  Jan.  4. 
Seaman,  Clinton,  22;  Jan.  5,  '64,  Galen;  Jan.  5. 
Shaver,  Merritt  C.,  22;  Jan.  11,  '64,  Smyrna;  Jan.  11. 
Shaw,  Richard  B.,  18;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Groton;  Jan.  4. 
Sheppard,  Arsey  M.,  21;  Feb.  8,  '64,  Lyons;  Feb.  11. 
Sherman,  John,  19;  Jan.  21,  '64,  Onondaga;  Jan.  21. 
Shumway,  Sylvester,  19;  Aug.  13,  '64,  Troy;  Sept.  2. 
Sidman,  James,  44;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Conquest;  Sept.  1,  1  year; 
Sinclair,  Manuel,  18;  Aug.  20,  '64,  Sempronius;  Aug.  22. 
Slaven,  James,  19;  Dec.  9,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  9. 
Smith,  Amos  H.,  27;  Aug.  9,  '64,  Savannah;  Aug.  9. 
Smith,  Charles,  24;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  21. 
Smith,  Emery  W.,  36;  Dec.  28,  '63,  Harford;  Dec.  28. 
Smith,  George,  21;  April  15,  '64,  Rome;  April  15. 
Stetson,  Jerome,  23;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Otisco;  Jan.  6,  '64;  M.  O., 

May  7,  '64. 

Stravels,  John,  24;  Sept.  6,  '64,  Sodus;  Sept.  6,  1  year. 
Sullivan,  Michael,  18;  Feb.  8,  '64,  Enfield;  Feb.  8. 
Swain,  Thomas,  20;  March  3,  '64,  Brooklyn;  March  3. 
Sweet,  Michael  M.,  40;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  29. 
Tafft,  Frank  F.,  27;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Venice;  Sept.  3. 


598  NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 

Thompson,  Edward,  46;  Sept.  22,  '63,  Montezuma;  Dec.  30. 

Thompson,  Orson,  18;  Dec.  22,  '63,  Dewitt;  Dec.  22. 

Thorp,  Thomas,  19;  Sept.  1,  '64,  Auburn;  Sept.  1,  1  year. 

Thurston,  James,  20;  Dec.  31,  '63,  Syracuse;  Dec.  31. 

Tripp,  Morton  F.,  16;  Feb.  22,  '64,  Rose;  dis.  April  20,  '64,  Fort 

Baker. 

Turner,  Charles,  21;  Nov.  24,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Nov.  24. 
Tuttle,  Peter,  40;  Jan.  13,  '64,  Syracuse;  Jan.  13. 
Utter,  George  N.,  20;  Sept.  13,  '64,  Sodus;  Sept.  14,  1  year. 
Van  Guilder,  Henry  Av  18;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Auburn;  Sept.  1,  1  year. 
Waldron,  Waland,  18;  Jan.  25,  '64,  Marcellus;  Jan.  25. 
Webber,  Charles  S.,  24;  March  10,  '64,  Troy;  March  10. 
Weed,  James,  21;  Dec.  4,  '63,  Brooklyn;  Dec.  4. 
Wilber,  Austin,  20;  Jan.  4,  '64,  Lincklaen;  Jan.  6. 
Whitney,  Isaac,  28;  Dec.  10,  '63,  Lyons;  Dec.  10. 
Wilkinson,  Philester,  41;  Sept.  2,  '64,  Wolcott;  Sept.  2,  1  year. 
Williams,  Edward,  19;  April  15,  '64,  Augusta;  April  15;  Vet. 

Co.  D,  2d  N.  Y.  A. 

Wilsey,  Francis,  24;  Dec.  29,  '63,  Sullivan;  Dec.  29. 
Wilson,  James,  26;  Sept.  3,  '64,  Somerset;  Sept.  3. 
Worrall,  Charles,  21;  Dec.  15,  '63,  New  York;  Dec.  15. 
Wright,  Ensign,  32;  Dec.  21,  '63,  Galen;  Dec.  21. 


TABLE  OF  AGGREGATES. 


03 

M      • 

bb 

•0 

£ 

<D 

£H 

02   O 

C/3 

q 

*6 

Pi 

t-i 

% 

•d 

S^l 

W 

tub 
§ 
1 

°l 

o 

DO 

"o 

2 
•o 

"1 

1 

rQ 

6 

|| 

|| 

1 

£ 

t 

I 

"*  a 

0> 

<£  • 

If 

h 

1 

"o 

£H     ^ 

£3  O 

if 

i 

O 

1 

Is 

gfc 

Ig 

It 

1 

^ 

M 

s 

s 

^ 

Hi 

o 

H 

H 

S 

Q 

Original  Field    and 

Staff, 

14 

2 

1 

2 

COMPANY  A. 

Officers, 

13 

i 

2 

1 

1 

Enlisted  Men, 

308 

25 

8 

16 

47 

19 

3 

49 

7 

57 

21 

COMPANY  B. 

Officers, 
Enlisted  Men, 

9 
206 

1 
22 

1 

9 

1 
24 

1 

7 

11 

1 

34 

7 

22 

3 

COMPANY  C. 

Officers, 
Enlisted  Men, 

16 
220 

22 

11 

19 

2 
37 

21 

45 

6 

26 

4 

COMPANY  D. 

Officers, 
Enlisted  Men, 

14 
230 

1 
12 

9 

9 

1 
20 

23 

1 

44 

11 

34 

9 

COMPANY  E. 

Officers, 

13 

2 

2 

1 

2 

Enlisted  Men, 

244 

28 

4 

22 

20 

10 

1 

44 

10 

27 

9 

COMPANY  F. 

Officers, 
Enlisted  Men, 

13 
246 

1 
12 

1 

7 

15 

2 

1 

1 

58 

13 

20 

36 

COMPANY  G. 

Officers, 

12 

Enlisted  Men, 

224 

9 

1 

17 

18 

3 

1 

43 

9 

9 

5 

COMPANY  H. 

Officers, 

9 

Enlisted  Men, 

250 

16 

3 

12 

23 

12 

42 

6 

12 

20 

COMPANY  I. 

Officers, 

12 

1 

Enlisted  Men, 

212 

6 

1 

12 

11 

2 

1 

78 

9 

10 

10 

COMPANY  K. 

Officers, 

9 

1 

3 

1 

Enlisted  Men, 

234 

30 

5 

26 

22 

24 

40 

5 

15 

18 

COMPANY  L. 

Officers, 
Enlisted  Men, 

8 
200 

7 

1 

13 

1 
15 

5 

1 

2 
91 

6 

18 

14 

COMPANY  M. 

Officers, 

10 

1 

2 

2 

Enlisted  Men, 

236 

10 

2 

9 

25 

12 

1 

98 

16 

14 

7 

2962 

206 

48 

173 

290 

142 

21 

678 

106 

264 

156 

1 

Adding  244  unassigned  recruits,  and  deducting  32  for  officers, 
named  twice,  the  final  aggregate  is  3,174;  but  the  number  2,962  rep 
resents  those  who  made  the  record  for  the  regiment. 


INDEX. 


N.  B. — The  following  list  contains  the  proper  names  of  the  text,  with 
topics  and  the  names  of  officers  that  are  not  arranged  alphabetically  in 
the  rosters.  In  the  tables  of  survivors  and  in  the  regimental  roster  all 
non-commissioned  officers  and  privates  are  arranged  in  strictly  alphabet 
ical  order. 

Abatis, 

Abbey,  A.  M., 

Acker,  Cyrus, 

A  Company, 

Adams,  Col.  A.  D., 

Africans  and  gunpowder, 

Aged  negro, 

Agnel,  V.  A., 

Aiken's  Landing, 

Ainsworth,  Col., 

Albaugh,  John, 

Alden,  L.  W., 

Alexander,  Capt.  B.  S., 

Alexander's  Battery, 

Alexandria,  58 

Allen,  James, 

Allen,  J.  M., 

Allen,  W.  E., 

Alpeter,  George  H., 

Amelia  Court  House, 

Ames,  J.  F., 

Anderson,  J.  H., 

Andrews,  Alvin, 

Annapolis, 

Antietam, 

Appomattox, 

Appomattox  Court  House, 

Appomattox  river, 

Aqueduct  Bridge, 

Aqueduct  road,  Guarding, 

"Araby," 

Arlington  Heights, 

Army  calls, 

Arnold,  Alonzo, 

Ashby's  gap, 

39 


Page. 

Page. 

227 

Atlantic  Monthly, 

38,  42 

409,  482,  580 

Atwood,  A.  J., 

471 

482 

Augur,  Gen., 

60,  289 

118,  124 

Austin,  H.  K., 

6 

132 

Averill,  Gen., 

149 

ler,                    25C 

Avery,  B.  L., 

292,  368 

108 

Avery,  Miss  J.  L., 

446 

592 

Awkward  soldiers, 

114 

358 

4 

Babcock,  H.  B., 

549 

492 

Bacon,  G.  W.,  15,  49, 

62,  92,  492,  515, 

15,  481,  482 

516 

!.,                       297 

Bailey's  cross-roads, 

257 

128 

Baker,  J.  B., 

482 

61,  63,  66,  81,  82 

Baldwin,  Jonathan, 

49 

57 

Ball,  Col.  William  H. 

,                          90 

482 

Account  of  Cedar 

Creek,      173,  174 

78,  518 

Ball  and  chain, 

56 

6,  189 

Ball's  Bluff, 

320 

231?  232 

Ball's  cross-roads, 

257,  260 

33 

Baltimore,    25,  118,  122,  125,  134,  135, 

301 

136 

433 

Band,  Brass, 

53,  88,  290 

360 

Barbara  Frietchie, 

122,  124 

26,  30,  31,  34,  125 

Barber,  John  A., 

189 

219 

Barless,  R.  C., 

292 

ouse,           237,  240 

Barnard,  Gen., 

58,  60,  298,  299 

110,  227 

Barnes,  B.  F., 

457 

295 

Barracks, 

49,  60 

ling,                   261 

Bartlett,  Gen.  W.  F., 

311 

301 

Barton,  Gen., 

235 

28,  82 

Barton,  Lewis, 

455,  493 

68 

Bates,  George  W., 

292 

278 

Bathing  facilities, 

260 

168,  322 

Battalion  joins,  3d, 

156 

602 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


Battery  Cameron, 

Kemble, 

Lee, 

Parrott, 

Rossell, 

Vermont, 
Battery  tips  over, 
Bayard,  Gen., 
B  Company,  50,  57 

218 
Beans, 

Beardsley,  William  C., 
Becker,  D.  D., 
Bedbugs  at  Reno, 

Strong, 

Beecher,  H.  W., 
Belgian  rifles, 
Bell,  James, 
"Belle  Brandon," 
Belle  Grove  House, 
Belle  Isle, 
Belle  -Plain, 
Bermuda  Hundred, 
Berryville, 
Between  the  lines, 
Bible  class, 
Bidwell,  Gen.  D.  B., 
Bigelow,  L.  H., 
Big  spring, 
Billings,  Col.  J.  D., 
Bird  song  in  battle, 
Bishop,  E.  A., 
Bivens,  James, 
Bixby,  A.  J., 
Black  Diamond, 
Bladensburg, 
Blair,  Montgomery, 
Blakeley,  John, 
Blanket  tossing, 
Blisters, 

Bodies  near  surface,  Dead, 
Bolivar  Heights, 
Bone  carving, 
Books, 

Booth,  Wilkes, 
Bostler,  Conrad, 
Bottume,  E.  W., 
Bovee,  W.  H., 


Page. 

Page. 

261 

Bowles,  J.  A., 

550 

261 

Bowen,  Alonzo, 

120,  410 

215,  216,  220,  222 

Bowling  Green, 

87,  88 

261 

Braddock,  Gen., 

125 

158 

Brandt,  J.  W., 

155,  455 

56,  261 

Bread-making, 

321 

125 

Breakfast  call, 

68 

298 

Breaking  midday  naps, 

67 

i9,  76,  129,  137,  156, 

Breaking  the  lines, 

223 

"Break  ranks," 

264 

34 

Breastwork  making,  101,  104, 

105,  110, 

D.,                           10 

111 

549 

Breckinridge,  Gen., 

128,  318 

160 

Bridge,  burning  of, 

128 

266 

Brigade  proposed,  3d, 

210 

22,  103,  209 

Brigade  review, 

218 

22 

Brightwood, 

299 

185 

Brinkerhoff,  G.  W.,  5,  118,  235, 

369,  410, 

292 

457 

172,  185 

Briscoe's  cove, 

367 

251 

Brock,  C.  J., 

78 

82,  83,  88,  205 

Broiling  steak, 

203 

108 

Brower,  A.  W., 

411 

142,  145,  146 

Brown,  Guy  A.,            226,  455, 

456,  580 

283 

Brown,  Rev.  L.  W., 

132 

17,  23,  32,  167,  174 

Brown,  M.  W., 

16,  580 

193 

Browning  quoted,  Mrs., 

284 

212,  226,  559 

Brownlow,   "Parson," 

23 

321 

Brown's  raid,  John, 

140,  142 

6 

Buchanan,  Capt., 

197 

98 

Bucktails, 

97 

409 

Bull,  A.  H., 

411 

456 

Burgess,  Charles,  15,  18,  78,  96, 

106,  128, 

340 

152,  157,  163,  196,  454, 

515 

561 

Burke,  M.  B., 

15,  482 

36,  55 

Burke,  0.  G., 

482 

319 

Burksville, 

240 

100 

Burton,  Hiram, 

411 

258 

Burton,  Reuben,  129,  307,  320, 

368,  411, 

320 

472,  549 

Dead,                 214 

Butcher  arrested, 

156 

146,  161 

Butler,  Gen.  B.  F., 

109 

339,  340 

46,  79,  340 

Cady,  Egbert, 

100 

87 

Cake    peddler,  The, 

161 

273 

Cale,  S.   V.  R., 

559 

413 

Calkins,  Ezra, 

527 

34 

Campbell,  R.  M., 

15,  457 

INDEX. 


603 


Camp  Bunker  Hill, 
Camp  Chase, 
Camp-fare, 
Camp  Halleck, 
Camp  Morris, 
Camp  Nellie  Seward, 
Camp  scene, 
Cannon  buried, 
Cannon  for  Early, 
Captain  and  his  horse, 
Captain  and  the  mule, 
Capital  of  Virginia, 
Capitol  in  Washington, 
Capture  and  escape,  My, 
Card-playing  under  fire, 
Caroline  county, 
Carpenter,  0.  B., 
Carroll,  Charles, 
Casterline,  J.  B., 
Cater,  Charles, 
Catoctin  mountains, 
Cavanaugh,  Mary, 


Page. 

31,  34 

27,  34,  82 
39 

14,  17,  26,  286 
40,  44 
36 
165 
241 
192 
70 
41 
251 
26 

307-309 
102 
87 

179,  493 
135 
412 
361 
125 
419 

Cedar  Creek,          143,  169,  170-194,  277 

Losses  at,  192 

Numbers  at,  193 

After  the  battle,  194 

CedarviUe,  143 

Chaddock,  T.  J.,  412,  527 

Chain  bridge,  39,  40,  53,  260 

Chamberlain,  Surgeon  D.  S.,       58,  130, 

278,  370,  413,  455 

Chambersburg,  38,  140 

Chance  to  pray,  A,  279 

Chantilly,  36 

Chapel,  George  E.,  482 

Charge  near  Petersburg,  111-113 

Charles  City  Court  House,  108 

Charlestown,  142,  145 

Charlottesville,  329 

Chase,  Salmon  P.,  28,  54,  60 

Chesterfield  church,  92 

Chevaux  de  frise,  227 

Chevrons  and  stripes,  218 

Chickahominy  river,  108 

Christmas,  47,  48,  209 

Chronicle,  Washington,  50 

City  Point,  108 

Clark,  E.  R,  591 


Page. 

Clark,  E.  J.,  16 

Clarksburg,  139, 317 

Clay,  H.  de  B.,  18 

Clay,  Henry,  94 

Clendennin,  D.  R.,  123 

Clifton,  143 

Clippard,  339 

Clothing  thrown  away,  83 

Clover  station,  248 

Clow,  George  E.,  559 

Cobb,  Alton  E.,  414 

Coffin  and  whiskey,  63 
Cold  Harbor,              44,  95,  96-107,  278 

Cole,  William  N.,  432 

Coleman,  Dr.,  243 

Coleman,  Lyman,  182,  281 

Colligan,  John,  6 

Petersburg  picket-line,  210 

Colonel  declines  to  move,  The,  113 

Colonel's  wife,  The,  269 

Colvin,  S.  T.,  132,  537,  538 

Company  funds,  61 

Company  Q,  147 
Comstock,  L.  C.,  367,  455,  456,  482,  549 

Condemned  horse,  80 

Confederacy,  Last  capital  of,  246 

Confederate  prices,  87 

Conklin,  Benson,  458 

Conklin,  Gilbert,  482 

Connecticut  1st  H.  A.,  81 

2d  H.  A.,  98,  100,  138 

17th  Infantry,  39 

Conny's  expense,  43 

Cook,  William,  549 

Cooking,  56,   114,   166 

Coombs,  William  H.,  414 

Coonan,  A.,  471 

Cooper  shop,  24,  272 

Corbett,  Boston,  87 

Cornwell,  Selah,  15,  40,  503 

Corpse  for  bed-mate,  119 

Corse,  Gen.,  235 

Cottrell,  Phoebe  J.,  418 

Counterfeit  bill,  354 

Covell,  Mrs.  C.  H.,  349 

Cowell,  Charles,  482 

Crafts,  A.  P.,  592 
Crane,  J.  L.,                     15,  49,  414,  537 


604 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


Craw,  Lafayette, 

Craw,  Morris, 

Crawford,  Thomas, 

Crittenden,  J.  T., 

Crook,  Gen., 

Crowfoot,  Charles  F., 

Crowley,  Dennis,  youngest  member 

of  the  Ninth, 
Cuba, 

Cumberland, 
Currie,  Col., 
Custer,  Gen., 
Cyclone, 

"D,"  the  letter, 
Dame,  Rev.  George  W., 
Damon,  Capt.  G.  B., 
Dancing  in  camp, 
Daniels,  R.  L., 
Dan  river, 
Danville,  March  to, 

Capital  of  Virginia, 

Prison  in,  etc., 
Danville  raid, 
Danville  Register, 
Danville  to  Richmond, 
Davenport,  Mr., 
Davidson,  Sutler, 
Davis,  Albert  J., 
Davis,  Capt.  G.  E., 
Davis,  President,  and  Cabinet, 

313 

Dawes,  Gen., 
Dawsonville, 
Day's  programme, 
Dead  horses, 
Dead  March  in  Saul, 
Dean,  John  E., 
Debates  with  enemy, 
D  Company,  61. 

Deer  shot, 
Delavan  House, 
Deserters,  Rebel, 
Desertions, 

Forgiven, 
Deuel,  Walter, 
De  Voe,  J.  H., 
Devoe,  S  T.,      60,  169,  221, 


Page. 

Page. 

93 

Dewitt,  Byron, 

370,  455 

93 

Dinkle  farm, 

151 

252 

Diphtheria, 

344 

456,  472 

Discharge  papers, 

62 

149,  153 

District  of  Columbia, 

138 

292 

Dix,  Gen.  John  A., 

391 

;  member 

Dongus,  Edward, 

187 

582 

Doxology, 

291 

59 

Dress  coats, 

261 

121 

Drummer  ashore, 

63 

197 

Duckett,  W.  G.,      6,  307, 

320,  417,  456 

146,  153,  407 

Dudley,  H.  A., 

100 

267 

Dudrow,  Capt., 

179 

Duffle,  Alfred  N.,        197, 

198,  343,  357 

338 

Dunning,  E.  P., 

6,  310 

248,  344,  345 

Dutchman,  A  wounded, 

281 

130 

Dutchman's  speech, 

35 

269 

504 

Early,  Gen.,  131,  134,  138, 

139,  140,  145, 

244 

151,  168,  170 

243,  245 

Cedar  Creek, 

191 

247,  333 

Eastern  branch, 

65,  76,  77,  80 

331 

E  Company, 

129,  134 

240 

Edenburg, 

162 

244 

Edminster,  D., 

482 

350 

Edwards,  Oliver, 

106,  175 

145 

Edward's  Ferry, 

136 

49 

Eighteenth  Corps, 

99 

416 

Eighth  Corps,                137, 

149,  170,  173 

6 

Election  days, 

41,  60,  199 

[net,  243,  247, 

Ellicott  City, 

135 

Ellis,  James  H., 

134,  456,  504 

194 

Elmendorf,  J.  C., 

458 

308 

Elmira, 

262,  363 

64,  67 

Emancipation  Proclamation,                  33 

93 

Emerson,  Ralph  W., 

51 

292 

Endurance, 

101 

370,  414,  456 

Escapes, 

313,  343 

326 

Ewell,  Gen.  R.  S., 

234,  235 

,  62,  134,  136 

Exchange, 

358 

61 

21 

Failing,  J.  F., 

370,  417,  456 

216 

Fairfax  Court  House, 

257 

264 

Fairfax  Seminary, 

81,  82 

265 

Falmouth, 

84 

6,  415 

Families  present, 

66 

6,  221,  415 

Farmville, 

236,  240 

370,  416,  456 

F  Company, 

70,  95,  104 

INDEX. 


605 


Page. 

"Featherbed  soldiers,"  237 

Fen  ton,  Governor,  418 

Fifth  Corps,  206,  222 

Fifth  Corps  badge,  91 

Fighting  experience,  188 

Finley,  Robert,  580 

Finnegan's  wake,  259 

First  bullet,  98 

First  death,  30,  273 

First  picket  duty,  35 

First  skirmish  drill,  54 

First  Thanksgiving,  42 

Firth,  William  H.,  516 
Fish,  Chauncey,  5,  12,  54,  78,  88,  126, 

128,  129,  151,  190,  203,  221,  235, 

417,  471,  472 

Fish,  Myron,  151 

Fish,  Thomas,  418 

Fisher's  Hill,       143,  153,  155,  169,  172 

Fitch,  Allen,  419 

Fitch,  Cyrus  E.,  419 

Fitch,  George,  419 

Fitch,  Irving,  419 

Fitzpatrick,  J.  W.,  571 

Flag  of  truce,  103,  216,  221 

Flags  of  the  Ninth,  286 

Deposited  in  Albany,  287 

Flag-staff  breaks,  63 

"•Flanking  above,"  116 

Flannery,  C.,  221 

Flies,  335 

Flower,  B.  L.,  455 
Flynn,  Dennis,          15,  92,  179,  419,  559 

Follett,  A.  H.,  102 

Follett,  H.  W.,  15,  481,  482 

Following  the  Greek  cross,  107 

Food  from  home,  40 
Food  prices,          158,  166,  199,  202,  209 

Food  troubles,  268 

Foot  cavalry,  289 

Foote,  Commodore,  60 

Foote,  0.  A.,  559 

Foraging,  137,  163,  164,  169,  199,  202, 

203,  204,  243,  247 

Ford,  Charles  A.,          6,  177,  283,  420 

Fording  Potomac,  137,  310,  320 

Forney,  John  W.,  50 

Forts  Allen,  Ethan,   59,  266;    Albany, 


Page. 

28;    Baker,   78,   80;    Berry,   81; 
Bunker  Hill,  30,  36 

Fort  Bayard,      51,  53,  66,  70,  273,  298 

Forts  Carroll,  78;  Corcoran,  295;  Davis, 

78;  Dupont,  78;  De  Russey,  158; 

Ellsworth,  297;  Ethan  Allen,  59, 

266;  Fisher,  210,  220 

Fort  Foote,  57,  60,  65,  78,  157,  205,  297, 

299,  399,  401 
Fort  Gaines,  42,  47,  49,  51,  57,  66,  261, 

298 
Forts  Garrische,  81;  Greble,  78;  Gregg, 

220;  Jackson,  27;  Keene,  210 
Fort  Kearney,      35,  36,  38,  39,  157,  298 
Forts  Lyon,  58;  McHenry,  196;  Mahan, 

78;  Mahone  (Damnation),  208 
Fort  Mansfield,      39,  40,  47,  49,  57,  66, 

159,  298,  395,  397,  411 
Forts  Massachusetts,  298,  299;    Meigs, 
78;   Pennsylvania,  298;   Powhat- 
an,  59 
Fort  Reno,  40,  47,  49,  57,  61,  136,  157, 

158,  159,  261,  298,  309,  395 
Forts  Reynolds,  81,  404;  Rhode  Island, 
298;   Richardson,  81,  404;  Rick- 
etts,  78;  Runyan,  27,  297;  Scott, 
81;  Sedgwick  (Hell),  208 
Fort  Simmons,  54,  56,  59,  61,  66,  76,  77, 

157,  159,  298 

Forts  Slocum,  298;   C.  F.  Smith,  266; 
Snyder,  78;   Stanton,  78;   Stead- 
man,  219,  227 
Fort  Stevens,   158,   260,  297,  299,  308, 

310,  319 

Forts  Strong,  266;     Sumner,  160,  260, 
298;  Thayer,160;  Totten,  35, 261 ; 
Wadsworth,  207,  210,  214;  Wag 
ner,  78;  Ward,  81;  Washington, 
157,  205,  402;  Welsh,  220 
Fort  building,  32,  37,  38,  44,  53,  55,  58 
Forts  about  Washington,  295-300 

Fortress  Monroe,  121,  157 

"For  your  coffee,"  277 

Foster,  Charles,  292 

Foster,  Henry,  292 

Foster,  William,  293 

Fowler,  Henry,  396 

Fox,  Col.  William  F.,  303 


606 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


Page. 

Franklin,  Gen.  W.  B.,  303 

Frederick  City,  122,  124,  125,  128,  129, 

135,  139,  140 

Fredericksburg,  82,  84,  88,  256 

Freeoff,  P.  R.,  15,  35,  129,  146,  155,  219, 

420,  549 

French  Princes,  393 

Front,  Reaching  the,  85 

Front  Royal,      143,  145,  168,  169,  170 

Frost,  0.  J.,  6,  421 

Fruit,  58,  60,  270 

Frying  hardtack,  200 

Fuller,  Squire,  482 


Gabion, 
Gage,  Barton, 
Gage,  Jesse, 
Gamble,  D.  P., 
Gambrill's  mill, 
Gardening, 
Garfield,  J.  A., 
Garrett,  President  J.  W., 
Gatchell,  H.  M., 
Gatling  gun, 


227 
293 
471 
421 

126,  132,  302 
237 
445 
123 
301 
109 


G  Company  comes  up,  89,  95,  104,  120, 

157,  169 

General  shaking-up, 
Geneva, 
Georgetown, 
Gettysburg, 
Gilmore,  Gen.  Q.  A., 
Girls  and  flags, 
"Go  in," 

Goldsborough,  E.  Y., 
"Good  at  running," 
"Good  morning," 
"Go  on,  Jack," 
Goose  creek, 
Goose  for  supper, 


Gordon,  Gen., 
G.  A.  R.  Posts, 
Grandy,  S.  J., 
Granger,  M.  M., 


77 
262 

,  53,  76,  138 
55 
109 
325 
147 
6 

168 
320 
13 
137 
168 
147,  149 
284,  285 
527 


173,  174 
Grant,  Gen.,  93,  101,  103,  107,  119,  138, 

141,  147,  214,  231,  258 
Order  about  deserters,  216 

Gray,  S.  P.,  210 

Great  Sodus  bay,  367 


Page. 

Greenwood,  W.  E.,  15,  421,  472 

Gregory,  T.,  15,  23,  49,  84,  100,  421,  454, 

471 

Grover,  Gen.,  149,  193 

Guarding  Aqueduct  road,  261 

Guarding  prisoners,  196 

Guarding  railroad,  248 

Guinea  station,  87,  88 

Gurley,  M.  D.,  Henry,  117 


Hagerstown, 
Hale,  Killing  of  Mrs., 
Halifax  Court  House, 
Hall,  A.  S., 
Halleck,  H.  W., 
Halltown, 
Hamilton, 

Hampden-Sidney  College, 
Hampton  Institute, 
Hampton  Roads, 
Hangings  for  desertion, 
Hanna,  M.  A., 
Hanover  Court  House, 
Hardin,  Gen.  M.  D., 
Hardtack, 
Hardtack  scarce, 
"Hardtack  and  Coffee," 
Harmon,  Alfred, 
Harmon,  D.  B.,  15, 

527,  537 

Harmon,  William, 
Harper's  Ferry,      37,  54, 

145,  291 
Harris,  Private, 
Harris,  S.  F., 

Cedar  Creek, 
Harrisonburg, 
Hart's  island, 
Harvey,  T.  S., 
Haskin,  Gen.  J.  A., 
Hatcher's  run, 
Hat  order, 
Hawley,  William, 
Hays,  Gen.  John, 
Hayes,  Gen.  R.  B., 
Hayhoe,  H., 
Haynes,  Chaplain  E.  M., 
Headboards  for  graves, 


124 
273 
243 

248,  333 
14,  252 
139 
137 
235 
121 
121 

209,  210,  219 

427 

94 

289 

26S 

95 

6 

293,  421 
132,  290,  421, 

293,  421 
122,  139,  141, 

256,  261 

6,  196,  549 

187 

156 

272 

422,  458 

58,  289,  403 

216 

217,  238 

15,  503,  527 

357 

177 

189 

6 

249 


INDEX. 


607 


Page. 

132,  156 
276 

274 

54,  58,  289 
282 
124 
152 
281 
293 

226,  238 
14 
458 

218,  472 
457,  504 
422,  493 
272 
592 
504 
400 
356 
364 

350-366 
56 
199 
482 

Horn,  John  W.,  90,  101,  107 

Homer,  "Jim,"  103 

Horse-play,  43 

Horton,  Clarence,  549 

Horton,  George  S.,  450 

Hot  bullet,  52 

Hough,  C.  W.,  422,  456,  472,  516 

How  he  got  out,  274 

Howard,  H.  P.,  6,  285,  286 

Howard,  Orson,      15,  180,  422,  503,  549 
Howard,  Gen.  0.  0.,  269 

Howe,  Elias,  39 

Howe,  S.  A.,  6,  16,  76,  185,  262,  423,  570 
Howell,  V.  R.,  151 

Hoxie,  J.  C.,  471 

Hudson,  Pitts  O.,  293 

Hughes,  H.,  15,  18,  19,  187,  549 

Hundred-days  men,  315 

Hunt,  Ralph,  424 

Hunter,  Gen.,  141 

Hunting  creek,  58 

Huntington,  E.  L.,  6,  424 


H  Company, 

He  didn't  put  it  in, 

He  got  left, 

Heintzelman,  Gen., 

He  lived, 

Henry,  Col.  W.  W., 

Hermann,  John, 

He  shot  too  close, 

Hickok,  W.  F., 

Hill,  Gen.  A.  P., 

Hillhouse,  Thomas, 

Hitchcock,  W.  J., 

Hoag,  F.  J.,  gets  sword, 

Hoff,  J.  R., 

Hoffman,  B.  F., 

Hogg,  Lieut.  Col.  George, 

Holabird,  Gen.  S.  B., 

Holcomb,  Almon, 

Holland,  Sir  Henry, 

Hollywood  cemetery, 

Home, 

Home  from  prison, 

Homesickness, 

Honey, 

Hooker,  Chester, 


Hurtubise,  S.  E., 
Cedar  Creek, 
Hutchinson,  John, 
Hyattstown, 
Hyde,  Harlow, 


Page. 

6 

184-187 
278 

139,  316 
425 


Hyde,  J.  H.,  5,  15,  18,  124,  166,  424,  457 

Hyde,  Thomas  W.,  107,  244 

Hyde,  Zenas,  424 

"I  can  no'  charge,"  236 

"I  can't  get  out,"  349 

I  Company,  95,  104,  161,  250 

Illinois  8th  Cavalry,  123 

Ingalls,  J.  J.,  445 

Inspections,  47 

Irwin,  Gen.  R.  B.,  193 


Jackson,  Andrew, 
Jagger,  D.  E., 
James  river, 
Jaquett,  W.  L., 
Jefferson, 
Jersey  Brigade, 
Jerusalem  plank-road, 


210 
94 

108,  119,  157 

456 

139 

145 

111,  115 


Jewhurst,  J.  W.,          16,  235,  537,  571 

Jim  and  his  tormentors,  71 

Jimmy  scared,  101 

John  L.  and  the  mice,  73 

"Johnnies,"  why,  316 

Johnson,  Andrew,  418 

Johnston,  Joseph  E.,  247 

Joke  on  the  boys,  246 

Julia,  46 

July  4th,  117 

Kautz,  Gen.,  113 

K  Company,  179 

Kearney,  Philip,  36 

Keifer,  J.  W.,  90,  96,  107,  149,  150,  174, 

220 

Account  of  assault,  April  2,  223 

Sailor's  Creek,               232,  241,  257 

Farewell,               259,  262,  286,  306 

Kellogg,  Col.,  100 

Kenyon,  V.  A.,  4,  6,  263,  370,  425,  455, 

504 

Cedar  Creek,  190 

Kershaw,  Gen.,                    145,  146,  235 


608 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


Kevand,  John, 
Key,  Francis  Scott, 
Kibble,  A.  M., 
"Kingdom  coming," 
King,  Gen.  A.  E., 
Kirby,  Mr., 
Kitching,  Col.  H., 
Kitty  Baker, 
"Kitty  Wells," 
Klumpp,  George, 
Knapp,  George  P., 
Knapp,  J.  D.,  6, 

Knapp,  J.  N., 
Knapsack,  Contents  of  a, 
Knowles,  H.  P.,  15,  29,  48, 

437,  455 
Knox,  C.  E., 
Knoxville, 


Page. 

368 
128 
185 
117 
302 
135 

159,  160,  193 

347 

342 

293 

15,  559 

426,  482,  537 

593 

29,  79 

370,  405,  426, 

492 
313 


Lafayette,  125 

Lament,  Daniel,  289 

Lamoreaux,  S.  B.,  5,  15,  181,  198,  225, 

226,  235,  264,  411,  426,  454,  515, 

516 

Landstreet,  Col.  W.  T.,  301 

Lape,  S.  W.,  493 

L  Company,  75,  80,  95,  104,  158,  207, 

215,  220,  237,  264 

Lee,  Custis,  235 

Lee,  Fitz,  143,  145 

Lee,  Gen.  R.  E.,  103,  107,  138 

Pursuit  of,  230,  231,  262 

Leesburg,  38,  137 

"Left,  left,"  274 

Lent,  C.  D.,  427,  537 

Letter  writing,  276 

Libby  Prison,  210,  251,  352 

Lke,  336,  347 
Lincoln,  President,  10,  33,  41,  119,  136, 

158,  219 

Assassinated,  241,  408 

Litchard,  A.  W.,  427 

Littlejohn,  Col.  D.  C.,  441 

Lockwood,  W.  H.,  482 
"Logan,  Who  is  left  to  mourn  for,"      9 

Long,  A.  K.,  6,  274,  427 

Long  Bridge,  27,  295 

Loveless,  250,  256 


Low,  Alvah, 
Lowell,  Charles  R., 
Luray  valley, 
Lybolt,  Arch., 
Lynchburg, 
Lyon,  C.  L., 
Lyon,  Gen.  Nat., 
Lyons,  Lord, 


Page. 
293 

153,  164,  193 
145 
428 
329 

15,  48,  62,  492 

39 

34,  42 


McCauseland,  Gen.,  140 

McClennan,  M.  R.,  90,  132 

McDougal,  Col.  C.,  93,  405 

McDowell,  Charles,  6 

Mcllwaine,  Rich.,  235 

Mclntyre,  W.  H.,  482 

Mack,  Samuel  R.,  128 

Mackenzie,  Col.  R.  S.,  193 

McKinley,  Major  William,  177 

McKnight,   Michael,  210 

McLean,  Wilmer,  238 

House,  239 

McMaster,  J.  S.,  527 

McNulty,  Michael,  429,  482 

Mahan,  Patrick,  343 

"Mail  to  go  out,"  285 

Maine  1st  Heavy,  55,  84 

Manchester,  D.,  504 

Mann,  Horace,  306 

Mansfield,  J.  K.  F.,  33 

Map  Burksville  to  Danville,  249 

Cedar  Creek,  171 

Cold  Harbor,  97 

Forts  about  Washington,  296 

Monocacy,  127 

Petersburg,  206 

Pursuit  of  Lee,  229 

Sailor's  Creek,  233 

Shenandoah  valley,  144 

Winchester,  148 

March,  Month  of,  51,  63,  77 

March,  A  rainy,  254 

March  to  Danville,  243 

Marcy,  William  L.,  434 

Marine  Brigade,  234 

Marshall,  A.  W.,  472,  527 

Marshall,  David,  293 

Marshall,  Col.  E.  G.,  261 

Martin,  J.  L.,  278 


INDEX. 


609 


Martinets, 
Martinsburg, 
Marvin,  J.  H., 
Marye's  Heights, 
Maryland  Brigade, 
Maryland  dairies, 


Page. 
159 

145,  147,  157 

6,  152 

85,  256 

206 

126 


Maryland  6th  Infantry,  90,  101,  123, 

173,  224 

Massachusetts  37th  Infantry,  106 

Massanuttan  mountain,  145 

Massie,  Charles,  329 

Mattapony  river,  256 

Mauk,  J.  W.,  226 

M  Company,               135,  146,  179,  264 

Joins,  50 

Mead,  Jud.,  307 
Meade,  Gen.,          93,  100,  119,  206,  307 

Meade's  station,  205 

Mean  trick,  50 

Medbury,  Mrs.  J.  L.,  446 

Meigs,  John  R.,  197 

Mellon,  M.,  130 

Merrimac,  Ram,  121 
Merritt,  Gen.,               143,  149,  197,  234 

Middletown,  143,  145 

Miles,  D.  S.,  25,  26 

Miles,  Gen.  N.  S.,  219 

Miles  marched  by  the  Ninth,  288 

Milford  station,  88 

Milk  lunch,  167 

Miller,  Elijah,  434,  439 

Millwood,  169,  323 
Monocacy,  Battle,  121-134,  157,  278,  411 

Monocacy  bridge,  125 

Monocacy  episode,  A,  300-302 

Monocacy  river,  140,  141 
Monocacy  to  Danville,  From,      314-331 

Moody,  William  F.,  273 

Moore  and  McCall,  49 

Morehouse,  R.,  6 

Morfit,  Major,  313 

Morgan,  Hon.  C.,  18 

Morgan,  "Dan.,"  153 

Morgan,  Hon.  E.  B.,  11 

Morgan,  E.  D.,  12 

Morris,  L.  N.,  44 

Morris,  L.  O.,              44,  49,  56,  74,  75 

Morris,  Staats,  44 


Moseby,  Col.  J.  S., 
Moulton,  E.  F., 
Mt.  Carmel  Church, 
Mt.  Crawford, 
Mt.  Olivet  cemetery, 
Mt.  Vernon, 
Mudge,  Charles, 
Mudge,  Lewis, 
Mudge,  Seldon  J., 
Mudge,  Warham,  6,  15, 
113,  211,  428,  455 
Mulford,  Col., 
Munn,  Hiram, 
Munson's  hill, 
Murdock,  R.  H., 
Muster-in, 
Myers,  Samuel, 

Nash,  Edwin, 
Negro  hanged, 
Negus,  John, 
Nervous   sentinel, 
Newberry,  E.  W., 
New  Jersey  1st  Battery, 
llth  Infantry, 


Page. 

145,  197 

293 

89 

156 

128 

82,  205,  402 

428 

428 

428 

23,  32,  34,  62, 

358 
429 
257 
134 
18 
151 

457 

110 

333 

32 

58,  429 
93 
36 


14th  Infantry,  122,  124,  303 

29th  Infantry,  40 

New  Store,  237 

Newspapers  in  camp,  No,  214 

Newtown,  143 

New  Year's,  49,  76 

New  York  city,  22 

New  York  Independent,  103 

New  York  Troops,  5th  Cavalry,          186 

8th  Cavalry,  25,  146 

24th  Cavalry,  104,  119 

2d  H.  A.,  262,  264,  271;  goes  home, 

272 

6th  H.  A.,  159 

7th  H.  A.,  54 

10th  H.  A.,  80 

14th  H.  A.,  261 

75th  Infantry,  149 

106th  Infantry,  130 

110th  Infantry,  25 

lllth  Infantry,          25,  26,  93,  103 

113th  Infantry,  44 

117th  Infantry,  51 


610 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


129th  Infantry, 
137th  Infantry, 
138th  Infantry, 
184th  Infantry, 
Night  marching, 
Nine  and  the  Ninth, 
Ninth  Corps, 


Page. 

47 

35 

46 

162 

>,  92,  116 
284 
104 


Ninth  Heavy  Artillery,  4,  44,  46,  81,  90, 

96,   111,  129,  133,  136,  138,  139, 

145,  150,  158,  167,  173,  174,  197, 

220,  224,  252,  257,  260,  297 

Size  of,  211 

Muster  out,  262 

Leave  for  home,  262 

Nineteenth  Corps,      149,  150,  153,  170, 

173 

Noble,  William  H.,  39 

Norman,  Jarvis,  243 

North  Anna  river,  89,  91 

North,  C.  J.,  430 

Northcott,  J.  R.,  188 

Norton,  A.  B.,  516 

"Not  dead  yet,"  346 

Notely,  Thomas,  303 

Notes  from  a  diary,  310 

Nott,  Dr.  E.,  20,  434 

Numan,  J.  D.,  16,  580 

Observatory,  Butler's,  109 

Observatory,  223 

Odor  from  dead  bodies,  102,  106 

"Oh,  I'm  hit,"  190 

Ohio  and  Chesapeake  canal,  40 

Ohio  Troops,  23d,  177 

110th,      90,  131,  150,  173,  220,  224 

122d,      90,  123,  150,  173,  220,  224 

126th,              90,  173,  219,  220,  224 

133d,  59 

169th,  59 

Ohlenschlager,  Dr.  Emil,  197 

"Old  G.  and  T.,"  327 

Old  Sore-toes,  69 

Oldswager,  John,  180,  430,  580 

Opequon  creek,  143,   147 

Ord,  E.  O.  C.,  252 

Ormsby,  5th  N.  Y.  Cavalry,  186 

Orterlipp,  Frank,  102 

Quids,  Gen.  Robert,  357 


Owens,  Moses, 
Paden,  Thomas, 
Page,  Ebenezer, 
Palmer,  Porter  V., 
Palmyra  visitor, 
Pamunkey  river, 
Parish,  F.  N., 
Parker,  Judge, 
Parker,  Capt.  Samuel, 


Page. 

246 

181 

78 

30 

138 

93 

6,  430 
142 
130 


Parrish,  W.  I.,      130,  131,  179,  431,  580 

Patrick's  station,  215 

Patterson,  C.  P.,  78,  471,  516 

Payne,  Hon.  S.  E.,  4 

Paymaster,  168 

Pay-rolls,  263 

Parshall,  D.  W.,  413 

Pemberton  prison,  210,  352 

Pennsylvania  Troops,  23d,  214 

67th,  90,  113,  150,  173,  219,  220,  224 

87th,  97 

138th,              90,  132,  150,  173,  224 

Penrose,  Col.  W.  H.,  193 

Personal   experiences   of  the   Civil 

War,  390-409 

Petersburg,                  109,  110,  205,  223 

Attack  on  picket  line,  210 

Assault,  March  25,  220 

Assault,  April  2,  228 

Entered,  230 

Petersville,  139 

Philadelphia,  24 

Pickett,  Gen.,  235 

Picket  incidents,      74,  94,  113,  116,  199 

Pidge,  George  H.,  537 

Pies,  51 

Pigs,  248 

Pimm,  E.  T.,  431 

Pitcher,  George  A.,  190 

Pocahontas,  108 

Point  of  Rocks,  108,  110 

Point  Lookout,  196 

Pole  Cat  creek,  89 

Pomeroy,  Hon.  T.  M.,  11 

Pond,  E.  H.,  293 

Pontoon  bridge,  108,  119 

Porter,  Col.  C.  S.,  244 

Porter,  Charles  F.,  313 

Porter,  Henry,  61 


INDEX. 


611 


Page. 

Postmaster,  167,  285 

Potomac  creek,  82 

Potomac  river,  27,  38,  40,  58,  61,  80, 

136,  138,  139 

Powhatan,  351 

Prentiss,  Capt.,  173 

President's  quid,  The,  277 

' Prince  George  county,  58 

Pringle,  W.  DeW.,   16,  131,   132,  370, 

455,  580 

Prison  food,  332 

Prisoners  of  war,  307-366 

"Private  Harris,"  256,  261 

Punishments,  50,  51,  211 

Putnam,  J.  J.,  482 


Quick,  T.  D.,  432,  571 

Quirk,  Mr.,  136 

Raiders,  342 

Railroads,   Destroying,  91 

Rainy  march,  254 
Ramseur,  Gen.  S.  D.,  149,  164,  185 

Rand,  Willard,  221 

Randolph,  John,  243 

Rappahannock  river,  84,  257 

Rations,  165,  257 

Rations  under  fire,  126 

Raulston,  Col.,  343 

Raynor,  A.  J.,  88 

Raze,  B.  F.  432 

Ready  to  move,  222 

Reams'  station,  113 

Rebel  letter,  316 

Rebel  prison,  In  a,  331-350 

Rebel  rations,  336 

Records,  Regimental,  3 
Recruits,  76,  79,  80,  169,  188 
Redgrave,  S.  C.,  15,  62,  432,  492 

Red  tape,  215 

Reed,  10th  Vermont,  339 
Reeves,  Stephen,  6,  17,  432,  471 

Regimental  band,  290 

Regimental  books,  4 

Regiment  leaves  Auburn,  19 

Regiment,  Smallest,  146 

Reid,  Whitelaw,  59 


Relay  House, 

Reno,  Gen., 

Retreat  from  Monocacy, 

Reveille, 

Review  of  6th  Corps, 


Page. 

25,  135,  161 
299 
135 

68 

258 


Rhodes,  H.  J.,  221,  235,  433,  527 

Rice,  Dan.,  31 

Rice,  J.  W.,  370,  456,  457 

Rice,  L.  B.,  6,  433,  471 

Richards,  Col.,  104 

Richardson,  A.  D.,  110 

Richmond,  250 

Captured,  230 

March  through,  251 

Richmond  revisited,  355 
Ricketts,  Gen.,  90,  130,  131,  150,  159, 

175,  193,  302,  305 

Riddleberger,  325 

Riley,  Anth.,  181 

Riley,  Barney,  210 

Roadside  halt,  253 

Robinson,  Charles,  571 

Robinson,  Dr.  H.,  400 

Robinson,  J.  D.,  549 

Rochambeau,  Count  de,  13 
Rockville,                       55,  139,  318,  320 

Rodes,  Gen.  R.  E.,  149,  152,  164 

Rodman  gun,  62,  64 

Roe,  A.  M.,  13,  433 
Roe,  A.  S.,                          4,  361,  369,  433 

Roe,  ST.  A.  M.,  294 

Roessle,  Henry,  160,  503 

Roll-call,  68,  195 

Rooker,  Henry,  407 

Rooster  crows,  219 

Root's  Battle  Hymn,  132 

Rorer,  J.  T.,  286 

Ross,  Sarah,  428 

Rosser,  Gen.,  168 

Roster  of  the  Ninth,  453 

Rowland,    Henry,  516 

Roys,  J.  S.,  284 

Rozier's  bluff,  57,  66 

Ruffle,  John,  471 

Runyan,  Chauncey,  274 

Russell,  Gen.  D.  A.,  151,  164 


612 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


Page. 

Sabin,  Surgeon  S.  A.,  6,  15,  203,  291,  309, 

413,  434,  455 

Death  of  Lincoln,  241 

Safford,  Major,  156 

Sager,  J.,        53,  291,  293,  370,  425,  456 

Sailor's  Creek,  231 

Battle  of,  232-237 

Origin  of  name,  235 

St.  Charles'  College,  135 

Sand  storm,  219 

Saxton,  Charles  T.,  .  369 

Scared  boy,  43 

Scares,  38,  42,  53,  55,  77,  398 

Schiffer,  361 

Schultze,  Otto,  455 

Scipio,  40 

Scott,  Gen.,  391 

Scribner,  G.  H.,  450 

Second  Cayuga  and  Wayne  Regiment,  9 

Second  Corps,  99 

Sedgwick,  Gen.,  90,  105,  303,  304 

Seelye,  J.  J.,  292,  293 

Segoine,  Jesse,  12 

Sergeant  sews  stripes,  218 

Seward,  Col.  Aug.,  395,  435 

Seward,  Frederick,  435 

Seward,  Mrs.  Frederick,  392 

Seward,  Mrs.  J.  W.,  390 

Seward,  William  H.,  4,  9,  21,  34,  40,  41, 

42,  48,  53,  54,  60,  63,  136,  277,  434 

Seward,  William  H.,  Jr.,  4,  5,  10,  13, 15, 

17,  18,  35,  47,  48,  49,  53,  54,  57, 

58,  62,  64,  65,  83,  88,  109,   113, 

114,  128,  132,  157,  159,  167,  275, 

368,  370,  395,  397,  403,  435,  436, 

454 

"Seward's  pets,"  34,  41 

Seymour,  Gen.,  200,  210,  213,  217,  218, 

256 

Seymour,  Horatio,  41 

Sharpshooters,  101 

Shell  burst,  The,  53,  273 

Shenandoah  river,       137,  140,  172,  323 
Shepard,  R.  B.,  55 

Shepardstown,  37 

Shergur,  C.  L.,  439 

Cedar  Creek,  6,  180-184 


Page. 

Sheridan,  Gen.,  109,  141,  145,  147,  151, 

153,  155,  169,  170,  174 
Cedar  Creek,  175,  185,  193,  201,  231, 

258,  437 

Sheridan's  cavalry,  91 

Sherman,  Gen.,  3 

Sherman,  Miss  Lodema,  444 

Shorkley,  P.  T.,  293 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  316 

Silver  spring,  319 

Sincerbeaux,  E.,  456 
Sinclair,  F.  A.,      6,  16,  76,  119,  439,  570 

Sinclair,  J.  P.,  185 

Sinclair,  James,  440 

Sinclair,  W.  W.,  16,  482,  571 

Singing  in  camp,  259 
"Six  dollars  's  better  'n  thirteen,"    261 

Sixth  Corps,  90,  99,  111,  134,  137,  138, 

140,  149,  153,  155,  158,  167,  169, 

170,  201,  223,  231,  257,  303-307, 

315,  318 

Paper,  244 

Review,  258 

Skinner,  Jeremiah,  102 

"Skirmishing,"  110 

Slap-jacks,  114 

Sleeping  under  fire,  98 

Slocum,  Col.  J.  S.,  298 

Small-pox,  62,  77 

Small,  Sergt.,  347 

Smith,  Capt.  A.  J.,  185 

Smith,  Albert  L.,  128 

Smith,  "  'Arry,"  341 

Smith,  Col.  B.  F.,  90,  101,  107 

Smith,  "Extra  Billy,"  247 

Smith,  Jimmy,  341 

Smith,  Capt.  John,  108 

Smith,  Gen.  Kirby,  258 

Smith,  Lewis,  456 

Smith,  Mortimer,  293 

Smith,  Col.  P.  B.,  247 

Smith,  Gen.  W.  F.,  303 

Smithfield,  146 

Smocker,  Frederick,  293 

Snicker's  gap,  41,  137,  158 

Snickerville,  137 

Snow,  First,  199 

Before  Petersburg,  207 


INDEX. 


613 


Page. 

Snyder,  A.  J.,  492 

Snyder,  Major  G.  W.,  297 

Snyder,  J.  L.,  492 

Snyder,  James  W.,  6,  12,  13,  15,  49,  51, 

60,  66,  78,  95,  100,  106,  136,  157, 

160,  168,  174,  210,  440,  454,  457 

Cedar  Creek,       178,  190,  193,  198, 

His  horse  dies,  198 

Gets  spurs,  201 

On  March  25,  221;  April  2,        223 

Sailor's  Creek,  235,  241,  260 

Farewell,  263 

Snuff-dipping,  250 

Socks  wear  out,  209 

Soft  bread,  117 

Soule,  Ira,  293 

Soule,  Ira  T.,  294 

Sova,  Alvin  N.,  128 

Spottsylvania,  84 

Springs  in  Virginia,  325 

Squier,  C.  Y.,  571 

Squires,  Sarah,  431 

Squyer,  C.  W.,  16 

Squyer,  Irvin,  15,  18,  198,  199,  440,  454, 

559 

Stacey,  Alfred  E.,  6 

Cedar  Creek,  188,  442 

Stacey,  Anthony,  158,  188,  442 

Stacey,  George,  189,  442 

Stafford,  E.,  78,  515,  516 

Stamford,  D.  J.,  129 

Stanton,  E.  M.,  42,  58,  119,  419 

Stanton,  Col.  J.  F.,  113 

Staunton,  145,  327,  328 

Staunton  river,  243,  244 

Steamer  George  Leary,  360 

Herman  Livingston,  205 

J.  W.  D.  Prouty,  82 

John  Brooks,  82 

Salvador,  118 

State  of  Connecticut,  82 

Thomas  Powell,  157 

Winona,  118 

Stephens,  N.  T.,  18 

Stern,  H.  C.,  458 

Stewart,  John  F.,  492,  493 

Stone,  D.  H.,  211,  516 

Stoneman,  Gen.,  313 


Stonewall  Jackson, 
Stout,  Wilmer, 
Stoyell,  George  C., 
Straight,  Col., 
Strasburg, 
Strickland,  N.  F., 


Page. 

42,  122 

181 

15,  278,  504 
354 

155,   156 
15,  444,  471,  472 


Strother,  D.  H.,  quoted,  163 

Sturge,  Philip,  his  horse  at  Cedar 

Creek,                  190,  444,  527,  559 

Stuart,  J.  E.  B.,  38,  42,  55,  91 

Sunday  in  camp,  37 

Sunday's  work,  226 

Surgeon's  call,  68,  69 

Surrender  of  Lee,  238 

Sutler  ordered  away,  219 

Swift,  George  W.,      444,  515,  516,  559 

Swift,  S.  F.,  15,  18,  504 

Sword  presentation,  403 

Syracuse,  262 

Taft,  E.  P.,  15,  16,  47,  48,  58,  59,  94,  131, 

132,  157,  167,  444,  454 

Tallman,  F.  A.,  6,  294 

Tallman,  Frank,  6,  368,  446 

Tall  soldiers,  257 

Taps,  69 

Taylor,  J.  X.,  225,  236 

Taylor,   Major,  104 

Taylor  quoted,  227 
Tennallytown,                  39,  136,  158,  260 

Tent  in  the  rain,  92 

Thanksgiving,  First,  42 

1864,  202 

Thanksgiving  and  prayer,  57 

Thatcher,  J.  H.,  151 

Third  Battalion  joins,  156,  163 

Third  Division  thanked,  100 

Thoburn,  Col.  Joseph,  193 

Thomas,  Charles,  151 

Thomas,  Col.  C.  K.,  123,  126,  141,  300, 

302,  315 

Thomas,  S.  S.,  300 

Thoroughfare  gap,  54,  55 

Threetop  mountain,  155 

Thurlstrup's  picture,  153 

Tidd,  John,  285 

Tifft,  J.  W.,  482 

Tifft,  John,  504 


614 


NINTH  NEW  YORK  HEAVY  ARTILLERY. 


Page 

Tindall,  P.  P.,  537,  538 

Tolles,  Col.  C.  W.,  197 

Tompkins,  Col.  C.  H.,  104,  120 

Torbert,  Gen.,  153 

Trading  with  rebels,  215,  216,  219 

Tree  cut  off  by  shell,  102 

Trouble  over  food,  268 

Tucker,  J.  Randolph,  234 
Tucker,  William  H.,  Cedar  Creek,      189 

Turner,  "Dick,"  353 

Turner,  George,  341 

Twenty-second  Corps,  138 

Two  harvests,  294 

Tyler,  Gen.  E.  B.,  123 

Tyler,  Governor  J.  H.,  300 

Tyler,  President  John,  108 

Typhoid  fever,  59 


Union  volunteer  saloon, 
Urbana, 

Vaill,  Lieut., 
Valley,  The  Shenandoah, 
145,  163,  164 

Left, 

Valuable  papers, 
Vandenburgh,  Major, 
Vanderbilt,  A.  H., 
Vandervoort,  M.  L., 
Van  Liew,  John, 
Verdi,  Dr., 
Vermont  Troops,  10th, 

1st  Heavy, 

Brigade, 

Veteran  Association, 
Vickery,  J.  J., 
Vidette, 

Vishion,  H.  W., 
Visiting  at  Cold  Harbor, 
Voorhies,  George  B., 
Vosburg,  T., 


23 
139,  316 

98 
141,  142,  144, 

204,  324 
87 
303 
369 
102 
294 
402 

122,  124 
138 
145 

367-389 
61 

116,  199,  211 
369 

103,  104 

493 

15,  537 


Page. 
Wallace,  Gen.  Lew,  123,  124,  129,  131, 

270,  271,  300,  301 

War,  not  Sunday  school,  87 

Warn,  Charles  S.,  447 

Washing   shirts,  121 

Washington,  25,  26,  30,  32,  36,  55,  58, 

134,  137,  138,  139 

Washington  reservoir,  40 

Washington,  George,  82,  85,  153 

Statue  of,  252 

Wasson,  W.  R,       15,  49,  370,  454,  455 
Water  was  saved,  The,  106 

Watson,  George,  408,  437,  447,  493,  549 
Watson,  John,  471 

Watterson,  Htnry,  295 

Wayne,  Anthony,  9,  44 

Wayne  county  man,  Trick  on,  70 

Webster,  Daniel,  83 

Weight  of  guns,  etc.,  47 

Weitzel,  Gen.   G.,  230 

Weldon  railroad,  119 

Welles,  Gideon,  60 

Welling,  Joseph,  11,  14,  15,  16,  21,  25, 

29,  35,  40,  41,  47,  48,  54,  56,  66, 

83,  88,  156,  286,  395,  447,  454 
Westfall,  S.  J.,  448 

"What  are  we  here  for?"  268 


Wadsworth,  James  S.,  41 

Wagon  trains,              86,  196,  198,  199 

Walker,  Col.  A.  F.,  188 

Walker,  Mayor  J.  M.,  244 

Walker,  W.  V.,  369 


Wheater,  B.  E., 
Wheeler,  Adjt., 
Wheeler,  H.  H., 
Whistler,  J  N.  G., 
Whitbeck,  J.  W., 
White's  ford, 
Whittier    quoted, 
"Whole  ribbel  army," 
Wilcox,  Gen.  0.  B., 
Wilcox's  Landing, 
Wilderness, 
Wiley,  Lieut., 
Williams,  L.  D., 
Williams  House, 
Williamson,  J.  J., 
Williamsport, 
Willow  spout, 
Wilson,  David, 
Wilson,  Gen., 
Wilson's  Cavalry, 
Winchester, 


312 

173 

286,  448,  504 
270,  272,  411 
449 
320 
139 
201 
230 
108 
84 
178 
492 
115 
197 
146 
327 
347 
113 
149 
42,  142,  143,  145,  323 


INDEX. 


615 


Winchester,  Battle  of, 
Wing,  E.  B., 
Wing,  S.  P., 
Winsor,  Columbus, 
Winter  house,  Plan  of, 


Page. 

149-155 

294 

294 

316 

46 


Winter  quarters,  44,  45,  208,  212,  213 
Wirz,  124 

Trial  of,  270 

Wisconsin  5th  Infantry,  197 

Wise,  John  S.,  247 

Wolcott,  Governor  Roger,  4 

Wood,  A.  S.,  4,  5,  15,  16,  48,  49,  126,  129, 

166,  174,  225,  235,  241,  368,  369; 

370,  403,  449,  454,  455,  492,  580 
Wood,  William,  5,  15,  62,  64,  161,  166, 

184,  201,  207,  225,  226,  235,  236, 

370,  451,  454,  527 


Woodstock, 
Woodward,  S., 
Woolen  gloves, 
Work,  Henry  C., 
Worms  in  hominy, 
Worthington,  R.  C., 


Page. 

156 

15,  527 
324 

117 
72 

16,  580 


Wright,  Gen.  H.  G.,  90,  96,  109,  113,  140, 
169,  170,  193,  217,  224,  226,  240, 
254,  296,  303,  304 
Letter  on  Cedar  Creek,  177 

Yard,  B.  J.,      6,  158,  201,  213,  516,  549 
York,  N.  G.,  6 

York's  diary,  Sergt.,  348 

Young,  Edmond,  538 

Youngest     member,    vide     Dennis 

Crowley,  582 


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